INUO
/filClEY\
LIBRARY
UNIVERSITY OF
VcAllfORNIA J
THE WRITINGS OF
HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
WITH BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTIONS
PORTRAITS, AND OTHER
ILL USTRA TIONS
IN SIXTEEN VOLUMES
VOLUME III
j VNNis-r
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO.
DRED
of
TOGETHER WITH
ANTI-SLAVERY TALES AND PAPERS, AND
LIFE IN FLORIDA AFTER
THE WAR
BY
HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOLUME I
Away to the Dismal Swamp he speeds :
His path was rugged and sore,
Through tangled juniper, beds of reeds,
Through many a fen, where the serpent feeds,
And man never trod before.
And when on earth he sunk to sleep,
If slumber his eyelids knew,
He lay where the deadly vine doth weep
Its venomous tears, that nightly steep
The flesh with blistering dew."
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
flfl&e (Sfoersibe Area s,
1896
Copyright, 1856 and 1884,
BY HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.
Copyright, 1873,
BY JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO.
Copyright, 1896,
BY HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO.
All rights reserved.
The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A.
Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghtou & Co-
F
CONTENTS OF VOLUME I
INTRODUCTORY NOTE . . . ..... vii
AUTHOR S PREFACE xiii
DRED: A TALE OF THE GREAT DISMAL SWAMP.
CHAPTEK
I. THE MISTRESS OF CANEMA ...... 1
II. CLAYTON 13
III. THE CLAYTON FAMILY AND SISTER ANNE . . 26
IV. THE GORDON FAMILY 37
V. HARRY AND HIS WIFE ....... 59
VI. THE DILEMMA 78
VII. CONSULTATION . . 91
VIII. OLD TIFF 97
IX. THE DEATH . . . . . . . . . 120
X. THE PREPARATION . 126
XL THE LOVERS 138
XII. EXPLANATIONS 153
XIII. TOM GORDON . 172
XIV. AUNT NESBIT S Loss ..... .193
XV. MR. JEKYL S OPINIONS 204
XVI. MILLY S STORY . 211
XVII. UNCLE JOHN 230
XVIII. DRED . 245
XIX. THE CONSPIRATORS . . . . . . 254
XX. SUMMER TALK AT CANEMA . 267
XXI. TIFF S PREPARATIONS ....... 281
XXII. THE WORSHIPERS . . . . . . . . 289
XXIII. THE CAMP-MEETING 304
XXIV. LIFE IN THE SWAMPS i .340
XXV. MORE SUMMER TALK 349
XXVI. MILLY S RETURN . . . . . . . .366
XXVII. THE TRIAL . 373
XXVIII. MAGNOLIA GROVE 382
XXIX. THE TROUBADOUR 401
XXX. TIFF S GARDEN . . . . . . . . .416
XXXI. THE WARNING . . . 426
XXXII. THE MORNING STAR . .432
214
vi CONTENTS
XXXIII. THE LEGAL DECISION . . ... . 439
XXXIV. THE CLOUD BURSTS . . . . . . . .452
XXXV. THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS . . . . 466
XXXVI. THE EVENING STAR .471
The frontispiece (Dred, page 248) and the vignette ("Now, Tiff, can you
say anything ?" page 118), are from drawings by B. West Clinedinst.
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
THE preparation of A Key to Uncle Tom s Cabin was
also directly a preparation for Mrs. Stowe s second great
novel based on the moral and social conditions induced by
African slavery in the United States. Out of the familiarity
which she acquired with the history and the laws of the
slave States both through her own investigation and through
that of her friends, especially her legal friends, sprang al
most as a matter of necessity the tale of Dred. She has
herself in her Preface spoken of the use she made of Judge
Ruffin s decision which she had already included in A Key.
The basis of the entire story, as is well known, is the in
surrection led by Nat Turner in eastern Virginia in 1831.
One of the principal participators in that affair was named
Dred. Years afterward when bringing out a new edition
of the novel Mrs. Stowe changed the title to Nina Gordon,
the name of the principal heroine ; but it bore this title for
a few years only, the old title being restored finally.
The story was written in 1855 and the spring of 1856,
and in his Life of his mother Mr. Stowe gives an interest
ing incident illustrative of her artistic care in her work.
On a sultry summer night, he says in effect, there was a
terrific thunderstorm, which threw the young daughters of
the house into a panic, and they crept trembling to their
mother s room, to find her lying quietly in bed, with the
window-shades drawn, watching with intense interest the
action of the storm. " I have been writing a description of
a thunderstorm for my book," she said, " and I am watch
ing to see if I need to correct it in any particular." The
Yin INTEODUCTOKY NOTE
description occurs in the chapter entitled Life in the
Swamps.
It was important for her own interests that Mrs. Stowe
should secure a copyright for the book in England, where a
great audience awaited her, and she made a journey abroad
in the early summer of 1856 with this end particularly in
view. She had already arranged with Messrs. Sampson
Low & Co. for its republication, and she wrote for the
English edition a special preface which states concisely the
aim she had in view in writing Dred.
11 The author s object in this book is to show the general
effect of slavery on society ; the various social disadvantages
which it brings, even to its most favored advocates ; the
shiftlessness and misery and backward tendency of all the
economical arrangements of slave States ; the retrograding
of good families into poverty ; the deterioration of land ;
the worse demoralization of all classes, from the aristocratic,
tyrannical planter to the oppressed and poor white, which
is the result of the introduction of slave labor. It is also
an object to display the corruption of Christianity which
arises from the same source, a corruption that has gradu
ally lowered the standard of the church, North and South,
and been productive of more infidelity than the works of
all the encyclopaedists put together."
The success of the book was immediate and great both in
the United States and in England. In the latter country a
hundred thousand copies \vere sold in a month. It was not
received with unanimous favor by the critics. The great
vogue of Uncle Tom s Cabin naturally led to a challenge
of the author when she appeared a second time, and Mrs.
Stowe sums up in one of her letters the reception Dred
had from various organs. "It is very bitterly attacked/ 7
she writes to her husband, " both from a literary and a
religious point of view. The Record is down upon it with
a cartload of solemnity ; the Athenceum with waspish
INTRODUCTORY NOTE ix
spite ; the Edinburgh goes out of its way to say that the
author knows nothing of the society she describes ; but yet
it goes everywhere, is read everywhere, and Mr. Low says
that he puts the hundred and twenty-fifth thousand to
press confidently. 7 One of the most thorough-going ap
preciations of the book was from Harriet Martineau, who
writes : " The genius carries all before it, and drowns every
thing in glorious pleasure. So marked a work of genius
claims exemption from every sort of comparison ; but, as
you ask for my opinion of the book, you may like to know
that I think it far superior to Uncle Tom. I have no
doubt that a multitude of people will say it is a falling off,
because they made up their minds that any new book of
yours must be inferior to that, and because it is so rare a
thing for a prodigious fame to be sustained by a second
book ; but in my own mind I am entirely convinced that
the second book is by far the best. Such faults as you
have are in the artistic department, and there is less defect
in Dred than in Uncle Tom, and the whole material and
treatment seem to me richer and more substantial. ... I
see no limit to the good it may do by suddenly splitting
open Southern life, for everybody to look into. It is pre
cisely the thing that is most wanted, just as Uncle Tom
was wanted, three years since, to show what negro slavery
in your republic was like. It is plantation life particu
larly, in the present case, that I mean. 7
The two books Uncle Tom s Cabin and Dred were the
great contributions which Mrs. Stowe made toward the
illumination of the Christian world on the subject of slav
ery. They stood side by side in a momentous period, but
tressed by the storehouse of facts contained in A Key.
Her interest in the subject went far back into her childhood,
as has been shown in the Introduction to Uncle Tom s
Cabin, and it was of course impossible that she should
AUTHOK S PEEFACE
THE writer of this book has chosen, once more, a sub
ject from the scenes and incidents of the slave-holding
States.
The reason for such a choice is two-fold. First, in a
merely artistic point of view, there is no ground, ancient or
modern, whose vivid lights, gloomy shadows, and grotesque
groupings, afford to the novelist so wide a scope for the
exercise of his powers. In the near vicinity of modern
civilization of the most matter-of-fact kind exist institutions
which carry us back to the twilight of the feudal ages, with
all their exciting possibilities of incident. Two nations,
the types of two exactly opposite styles of existence, are
here struggling ; and from the intermingling of these two
a third race has arisen, and the three are interlocked in wild
and singular relations, that evolve every possible combina
tion of romance. Hence, if the writer s only object had
been the production of a work of art, she would have felt
justified in not turning aside from that mine whose inex
haustible stores have but begun to be developed.
But this object, however legitimate, was not the only
nor the highest one. It is the moral bearings of the sub
ject involved which have had the chief influence in its
selection. The issues presented by the great conflict be
tween liberty and slavery do not grow less important from
year to year. On the contrary, their interest increases
with every step in the development of the national career.
Never has there been a crisis in the history of this nation
so momentous as the present. If ever a nation was raised
xiv AUTHOR S PREFACE
up by Divine Providence, and led forth upon a conspicuous
stage, as if for the express purpose of solving a great moral
problem in the sight of all mankind, it is this nation. God
in his providence is now asking the American people, Is
the system of slavery, as set forth in the American slave
code, right ? Is it so desirable, that you will directly
establish it over broad regions, where, till now, you have
solemnly forbidden it to enter ? And this question the
American people are about to answer. Under such circum
stances the writer felt that no apology was needed for once
more endeavoring to do something towards revealing to the
people the true character of that system. If the people
are to establish such a system, let them do it with their
eyes open, with all the dreadful realities before them.
One liberty has been taken which demands acknowledg
ment in the outset. The writer has placed in the mouth of
one of her leading characters a judicial decision of Judge
Ruffin, of North Carolina, the boldness, clearness, and
solemn eloquence of which have excited admiration both
in the Old World and the New. The author having no
personal acquaintance with that gentleman, the character to
whom she attributes it is to be considered as created merely
on a principle of artistic fitness.
To maintain the unity of the story, some anachronisms
with regard to the time of the session of courts have been
allowed ; for works of fiction must sometimes use some
liberties in the grouping of incidents. But as mere cold
art, unquickened by sympathy with the spirit of the age, is
nothing, the author hopes that those who now are called
to struggle for all that is noble in our laws and institu
tions may find in this book the response of a sympathizing
heart.
DEED
A TALE OF THE GREAT DISMAL SWAMP
CHAPTER I
THE MISTRESS OF CANEMA
" BILLS, Harry ? Yes. Dear me, where are they ?
There ! No. Here ? Oh, look ! What do you think
of this scarf ? Is n t it lovely 1 "
"Yes, Miss Nina, beautiful but -
" Oh, those bills ! Yes well, here goes here per
haps in this box. No that s my opera-hat. By the bye,
what do you think of that? Isn t that bunch of silver
wheat lovely 1 Stop a bit you shall see it on me. "
And, with these words, the slight little figure sprang
up as if it had wings, and, humming a waltzing- tune,
skimmed across the room to a looking-glass, and placed the
jaunty little cap on the gay little head, and then, turning
a pirouette on one toe, said, "There, now!"
" There, now ! " Ah, Harry ! ah, mankind generally ! the
wisest of you have been made fools of by just such dan
cing, glittering, fluttering little assortments of curls, pen
dants, streamers, eyes, cheeks, and dimples! The little
figure, scarce the height of the Venus, rounded as that of
an infant, was shown to advantage by a coquettish morn
ing-dress of buff muslin, which fluttered open in front to
display the embroidered skirt, and trim little mouse of a
VOL. I.
2 DEED
slipper. The face was one of those provoking ones which
set criticism at defiance. The hair, waving, curling, dan
cing hither and thither, seemed to have a wild, laughing
grace of its own ; the brown eyes twinkled like the pendants
of a chandelier; the little, wicked nose, which bore the
forbidden upward curve, seemed to assert its right to do so
with a saucy freedom; and the pendants of multiplied bril
liants that twinkled in her ears, and the nodding wreath of
silver wheat that set off her opera-hat, seemed alive with
mischief and motion.
" Well, what do you think ? " said a lively, imperative
voice, just the kind of voice that you might have ex
pected from the figure.
The young man to whom this question was addressed
was a well-dressed, gentlemanly person of about thirty-
five, with dark complexion and hair, and deep blue eyes.
There was something marked and peculiar in the square,
high forehead, and the finely formed features, which indi
cated talent and ability ; and the blue eyes had a depth and
strength of color that might cause them at first glance to
appear black. The face, with its strongly marked expres
sion of honesty and sense, had about it many careworn and
thoughtful lines. He looked at the little, defiant fay for
a moment with an air of the most entire deference and
admiration; then a heavy shadow crossed his face, and he
answered abstractedly, "Yes, Miss Nina, everything you
wear becomes pretty and that is perfectly charming. "
"Isn t it, now, Harry? I thought you would think so.
You see, it s my own idea. You ought to have seen
what a thing it was when I first saw it in Mme. La
Blanche s window. There was a great hot-looking feather
on it, and two or three horrid bows. I had them out in
a twinkling, and got this wheat in which shakes so, you
know. It s perfectly lovely! Well, do you believe, the
very night I wore it to the opera, I got engaged 1 "
THE MISTRESS OF CANEMA 3
"Engaged, Miss Nina?"
"Engaged ! Yes, to be sure ! Why not 1 "
"It seems to me that s a very serious thing, Miss
Nina."
"Serious! ha! ha! ha! " said the little beauty, seating
herself on one arm of the sofa, and shaking the glittering
hat back from her eyes. " Well, I fancy it was to him,
at least. I made him serious, I can tell you ! "
"But is this true, Miss Nina? Are you really en
gaged?"
"Yes, to be sure I am to three gentlemen; and going
to stay so till I find which I like best. Maybe, you
know, I sha n t like any of them."
"Engaged to three gentlemen, Miss Nina?"
" To be sure ! Can t you understand English, Harry ?
I am now fact. "
"Miss Nina, is that right? "
" Eight ? why not ? I don t know which to take I
positively don t; so I took them all on trial, you know."
"Pray, Miss Nina, tell us who they are."
"Well, there s Mr. Carson; he s a rich old bachelor
horridly polite one of those little, bobbing men, that al
ways have such shiny dickies and collars, and such bright
boots, and such tight straps. And he s rich and per
fectly wild about me. He would n t take no for an an
swer, you know; so I just said yes, to have a little quiet.
Besides, he is very convenient about the opera and concerts,
and such things."
"Well, and the next?"
"Well, the next is George Emmons. He s one of your
pink-and- white men, you know, who look like cream-candy,
as if they were good to eat. He s a lawyer, of a good
family, thought a good deal of, and all that. Well, really,
they say he has talents I m no judge. I know he always
bores me to death; asking me if I have read this or that
4 DEED
marking places in books that I never read. He s your
sentimental sort writes the most romantic notes on pink
paper, and all that sort of thing."
"And the third?"
"Well, you see, I don t like him a bit I m sure I
don t. He s a hateful creature! He isn t handsome;
he s proud as Lucifer; and I m sure I don t know how he
got me to be engaged. It was a kind of an accident.
He s real good, though too good for me, that s a fact.
But, then, I m afraid of him a little."
"And his name?"
" Well, his name is Clayton, Mr. Edward Clayton, at
your service. He sone of your high-and-mighty people
with such deep-set eyes eyes that look as if they were in
a cave and such black hair ! And his eyes have a desperate
sort of sad look, sometimes quite Byronic. He s tall, and
rather loose-jointed has beautiful teeth; his mouth, too,
is well, when he smiles, sometimes it really is quite
fascinating; and then he s so different from other gentle
men ! He s kind but he don t care how he dresses ; and
wears the most horrid shoes. And, then, he is n t polite
he won t jump, you know, to pick up your thread or scis
sors; and sometimes he 11 get into a brown study, and let
you stand ten minutes before he thinks to give you a
chair, and all such provoking things. He isn t a bit of
a lady s man. Well, consequence is, as my lord won t
court the girls, the girls all court my lord that s the
way, you know; and they seem to think it s such a
feather in their cap to get attention from him, because,
you know, he s horrid sensible. So, you see, that just
set me out to see what I could do with him. Well, you
see, I wouldn t court him; and I plagued him, and
laughed at him, and spited him, and got him gloriously
wroth; and he said some spiteful things about me, and
then I said some more about him, and we had a real up-
THE MISTRESS OF CANEMA 5
and-down quarrel ; and then I took a penitent turn, you
know, and just went gracefully down into the valley of
humiliation as we witches can ; and it took wonderfully
brought my lord on to his knees before he knew what
he was doing. Well, really, I don t know what was the
matter, just then, but he spoke so earnest and strong that
actually he got me to crying hateful creature ! and I
promised all sorts of things, you know said altogether
more than will bear thinking of."
"And are you corresponding with all these lovers, Miss
Nina?"
"Yes isn t it fun? Their letters, you know, can t
speak. If they could, when they come rustling together
in the bag, would n t there be a muss 1 ? "
"Miss Nina, I think you have given your heart to this
last one."
"Oh, nonsense, Harry! Haven t got any heart!
don t care two pins for any of them! All I want is to
have a good time. As to love, and all that, I don t be
lieve I could love any of them; I should be tired to death
of any of them in six weeks. I never liked anything that
long."
"Miss Nina, you must excuse me, but I want to ask
again, is it right to trifle with the feelings of gentlemen in
this way?"
"Why not? Isn t all fair in war? Don t they trifle
with us girls, every chance they get and sit up so pom
pous in their rooms, and smoke cigars, and talk us over,
as if they only had to put out their finger and say, * Come
here, to get any of us? I tell you, it s fun to bring them
down! Now, there s that horrid George Emmons I
tell you, if he didn t flirt all winter with Mary Stephens,
and got everybody to laughing about her ! it was so evi
dent, you see, that she liked him she couldn t help
showing it, poor little thing ! and then my lord would
6 DRED
settle his collar, and say he hadn t quite made up his mind
to take her, and all that. Well, I have n t made up my
mind to take him, either and so poor Mary is avenged.
As to the old bach that smooth-dicky man you see,
he can t be hurt; for his heart is rubbed as smooth and
hard as his dicky, with falling in love and out again.
He s been turned off by three girls, now; and his shoes
squeak as brisk as ever, and he s just as jolly. You see,
he didn t use to be so rich. Lately, he s come into a
splendid property; so, if I don t take him, poor man, there
are enough that would be glad of him."
"Well, then, but as to that other one?"
"What! my lord Lofty? Oh, he wants humbling! it
would n t hurt him, in the least, to be put down a little.
He s good, too, and afflictions always improve good people.
I believe I was made for a means of grace to em all."
" Miss Nina, what if all three of them should come at
once or even two of them ? "
"What a droll idea! Wouldn t it be funny? Just to
think of it! What a commotion! What a scene! It
would really be vastly entertaining."
"Now, Miss Nina, I want to speak as a friend."
"No, you sha n t! it is just what people say when they
are going to say something disagreeable. I told Clayton,
once for all, that I wouldn t have him speak as a friend to
me."
"Pray, how does he take all this? "
"Take it! Why, just as he must. He cares a great
deal more for me than I do for him." Here a slight little
sigh escaped the fair speaker. "And I think it fun to
shock him. You know he is one of the fatherly sort, who
is always advising young girls. Let it be understood that
his standard of female character is wonderfully high, and
all that. And then, to think of his being tripped up be
fore me ! it s too funny ! " The little sprite here took off
THE MISTRESS OF CANEMA 7
her opera-hat, and commenced waltzing a few steps, and
stopping mid-whirl, exclaimed : " Oh, do you know, we girls
have heen trying to learn the cachucha, and I ve got some
castanets ! Let me see where are they 1 " And with this
she proceeded to upset the trunk, from which flew a mete
oric shower of bracelets, billets-doux, French Grammars,
drawing-pencils, interspersed with confectionery of various
descriptions, and all the etceteras of a schoolgirl s deposi
tory. "There, upon my word, there are the bills you
were asking for. There, take them ! " throwing a pack
age of papers at the young man. "Take them! Can you
catch?"
"Miss Nina, these do not appear to be bills."
"Oh, bless me! those are love-letters, then. The bills
are somewhere." And the little hands went pawing among
the heap making the fanciful collection fly in every direc
tion over the carpet. " Ah ! I believe now in this bonbon-
box I did put them. Take care of your head, Harry ! "
And, with the word, the gilded missile flew from the little
hand, and opening on the way, showered Harry with a pro
fusion of crumpled papers. "Now you have got them all,
except one, that I used for curl-papers the other night.
Oh, don t look so sober about it! Indeed, I kept the
pieces here they are. And now don t you say, Harry,
don t you tell me that I never save my bills. You don t
know how particular I have been, and what trouble I have
taken. But, there there s a letter Clayton wrote to me,
one time when we had a quarrel. Just a specimen of that
creature ! "
"Pray tell us about it, Miss Nina," said the young
man, with his eyes fixed admiringly on the little person,
while he was smoothing and arranging the crumpled docu
ments.
"Why, you see, it was just this way. You know,
these men how provoking they are! They ll go and
8 DEED
read all sorts of books no matter what they read ! and
then they are so dreadfully particular about us girls. Do
you know, Harry, this always made me angry ?
"Well, so, you see, one evening Sophy Elliot quoted
some poetry from c Don Juan, I never read it, but it
seems folks call it a bad book, and my lord Clayton im
mediately fixed his eyes upon her in such an appalling
way, and says, Have you read "Don Juan," Miss Elliot?
Then, you know, as girls always do in such cases, she
blushed and stammered, and said her brother had read some
extracts from it to her. I was vexed, and said, And,
pray, what s the harm if she did read it? / mean to read
it, the very first chance I get!
"Oh! everybody looked so shocked. Why, dear me! if
I had said I was going to commit murder, Clayton could
not have looked more concerned. So he put on that very
edifying air of his, and said, Miss Nina, I trust, as your
friend, that you will not read that book. I should lose
all respect for a lady friend who had read that.
" Have you read it, Mr. Clayton ? said I.
" Yes, Miss Nina, said he, quite piously.
" What makes you read such bad books ? said I, very
innocently.
"Then there followed a general fuss and talk; and the
gentlemen, you know, would not have their wives or their
sisters read anything naughty, for the world. They
wanted us all to be like snowflakes, and all that. And
they were quite high, telling they wouldn t marry this,
and they would n t marry that, till at last I made them
a curtsy, and said, Gentlemen, we ladies are infinitely
obliged to you, but we don t intend to marry people that
read naughty books, either. Of course you know snow-
flakes don t like smut!
"Now, I really didn t mean anything by it, except to
put down these men, and stand up for my sex. But Clay-
THE MISTRESS OF CANEMA 9
ton took it in real earnest. He grew red and grew pale,
and was just as angry as he could be. Well, the quarrel
raged about three days. Then, do you know, I made him
give up, and own that he was in the wrong. There, I
think he was, too, don t you? Don t you think men
ought to be as good as we are, anyway ? "
"Miss Nina, I should think you would be afraid to
express yourself so positively."
" Oh, if I cared a sou for any of them, perhaps I should.
But there is n t one of the train that I would give that
for ! " said she, flirting a shower of peanut-shells into the
air.
"Yes, but Miss Nina, some time or other you must
marry somebody. You need somebody to take care of the
property and place."
"Oh, that s it, is if? You are tired of keeping ac
counts, are you, with me to spend the money? Well, I
don t wonder. How I pity anybody that keeps accounts!
Isn t it horrid, Harry? Those awful books! Do you
know that Mme. Ardaine set out that we girls should keep
account of our expenses? I just tried it two weeks. I
had a headache and weak eyes, and actually it nearly ruined
my constitution. Somehow or other, they gave it up, it
gave them so much trouble. And what s the use?
When money s spent, it s spent; and keeping accounts
ever so strict won t get it back. I am very careful about
my expenses. I never get anything that I can do with
out."
"For instance," said Harry, rather roguishly, "this bill
of one hundred dollars for confectionery."
"Well, you know just how it is, Harry. It s so horrid
to have to study ! Girls must have something. And you
know I didn t get it all for myself; I gave it round to all
the girls. Then they used to ask me for it, and I could n t
refuse and so it went."
10 DEED
"I didn t presume to comment, Miss Nina. What have
we here ? Mme. Les Cartes, $450 ? "
" Oh, Harry, that horrid Mme. Les Cartes ! You never
saw anything like her! Positively, it is not my fault.
She puts down things I never got: I know she does.
Nothing in the world but because she is from Paris.
Everybody is complaining of her. But, then, nobody gets
anything anywhere else. So what can one do, you know ?
I assure you, Harry, I am economical."
The young man, who had been summing up the ac
counts, now burst out into such a hearty laugh as somewhat
disconcerted the fair rhetorician.
She colored to her temples.
"Harry, now, for shame! Positively, you aren t re
spectful!"
"Oh, Miss Nina, on my knees I beg pardon! " still con
tinuing to laugh; "but, indeed, you must excuse me. I
am positively delighted to hear of your economy, Miss
Nina."
"Well, now, Harry, you may look at the bills and see.
Have n t I ripped up all my silk dresses and had them
colored over, just to economize 1 ? You can see the dyer s
bill, there ; and Mine. Carteau told me she always expected
to turn my dresses twice, at least. Oh, yes, I have been
very economical."
"I have heard of old dresses turned costing more than
new ones, Miss Nina."
"Oh, nonsense, Harry! What should you know of girls
things? But I 11 tell you one thing I ve got, Harry, and
that is a gold watch for you. There it is, " throwing a case
carelessly towards him; "and there s a silk dress for your
wife," throwing him a little parcel. "I have sense enough
to know what a good fellow you are, at any rate. I could n t
go on as I do, if you didn t rack your poor head fifty ways
to keep things going straight here at home for me."
THE MISTEESS OF CANEMA 11
A host of conflicting emotions seemed to cross the young
man s face, like a shadow of clouds over a field, as he
silently undid the packages. His hands trembled, his lips
quivered, but he said nothing.
"Come, Harry, don t this suit you? I thought it
would."
"Miss Nina, you are too kind."
"No, I m not, Harry; I am a selfish little concern,
that s a fact," said she, turning away, and pretending not
to see the feeling which agitated him.
"But, Harry, wasn t it droll, this morning, when all our
people came up to get their presents! There was Aunt
Sue, and Aunt Tike, and Aunt Katy, each one got a new
sack pattern, in which they are going to make up the
prints I brought them. In about two days our place will
be flaming with aprons and sacks. And did you see Aunt
Rose in that pink bonnet, with the flowers? You could
see every tooth in her head! Of course, now they ll be
taken with a very pious streak, to go to some camp-meeting
or other, to show their finery. Why don t you laugh,
Harry ? "
"I do, don t I, Miss Nina?"
"You only laugh on your face. You don t laugh deep
down. What s the matter? I don t believe it s good for
you to read and study so much. Papa used to say that he
did n t think it was good for "
She stopped, checked by the expression on the face of
her listener.
"For servants, Miss Nina, your papa said, I suppose."
With the quick tact of her sex, Nina perceived that she
had struck some disagreeable chord in the mind of her
faithful attendant, and she hastened to change the subject
in her careless, rattling way.
"Why, yes, Harry, study is horrid for you, or me either,
or anybody else, except musty old people, who don t know
12 DRED
how to do anything else. Did ever anybody look out of
doors, such a pleasant day as this, and want to study?
Think of a bird s studying, now, or a bee! They don t
study they live. Now, I don t want to study I want
to live. So now, Harry, if you 11 just get the ponies and
go in the woods, I want to get some jessamines, and spring
beauties, and wild honeysuckles, and all the rest of the
flowers that I used to get before I went to school."
CHAPTER II
CLAYTON
THE curtain rises on our next scene, and discovers a
tranquil library, illuminated by the slant rays of the after
noon s sun. On one side the room opened by long glass
windows on to a garden, from whence the air came in per
fumed with the breath of roses and honeysuckles. The floor
covered with white matting, the couches and sofas robed in
smooth glazed linen, gave an air of freshness and coolness
to the apartment. The walls were hung with prints of the
great masterpieces of European art, while bronzes and
plaster-casts, distributed with taste and skill, gave evidence
of artistic culture in the general arrangement. Two young
men were sitting together near the opened window at a
small table, which displayed an antique coffee-set of silver,
and a silver tray of ices and fruits. One of these has
already been introduced to the notice of our readers, in
the description of our heroine in the last chapter.
Edward Clayton, the only son of Judge Clayton, and
representative of one of the oldest and most distinguished
families of North Carolina, was in personal appearance
much what our lively young friend had sketched tall,
slender, with a sort of loose-jointedness and carelessness of
dress, which might have produced an impression of clown-
ishness, had it not been relieved by a refined and intel
lectual expression on the head and face. The upper part
of the face gave the impression of thoughtfulness and
strength, with a shadowing of melancholy earnestness, and
there was about the eye, in conversation, that occasional
14 DEED
gleam of troubled wildness which betrays the hypochon
driac temperament. The mouth was even feminine in the
delicacy and beauty of its lines, and the smile which some
times played around it had a peculiar fascination. It
seemed to be a smile of but half the man s nature; for it
never rose as high as the eyes, or seemed to disturb the
dark stillness of their thoughtfulness.
The other speaker was in many respects a contrast; and
we will introduce him to our readers by the name of Frank
Russel. Furthermore, for their benefit, we will premise
that he was the only son of a once distinguished and
wealthy, but now almost decayed family of Virginia.
It is supposed by many that friendship is best founded
upon similarity of nature; but observation teaches that it
is more common by a union of opposites, in which each
party is attracted by something wanting in itself. In Clay
ton, the great preponderance of those faculties which draw
a man inward, and impair the efficiency of the outward
life, inclined him to overvalue the active and practical fac
ulties, because he saw them constantly attended with a kind
of success which he fully appreciated, but was unable to
attain. Perfect ease of manner, ready presence of mind
under all social exigencies, adroitness in making the most
of passing occurrences, are qualities which are seldom the
gift of sensitive and deeply thoughtful natures, and which
for this very reason they are often disposed to overvalue.
Russel was one of those men who have just enough of all
the higher faculties to appreciate their existence in others,
and not enough of any one to disturb the perfect avail
ability of his own mind. Everything in his mental fur
nishing was always completely under his own control, and
on hand for use at a moment s notice. From infancy
he was noted for quick tact and ready reply. At school
he was the universal factotum, the " good fellow " of the
ring, heading all the mischief among the boys, and yet
CLAYTON 15
walking with exemplary gravity on the blind side of the
master. Many a scrape had he rescued Clayton from, into
which he had fallen from a more fastidious moral sense, a
more scrupulous honor, than is for worldly profit either in
the boy s or man s sphere; and Clayton, superior as he
was, could not help loving and depending on him.
The diviner part of man is often shamefaced and self-
distrustful, ill at home in this world, and standing in awe
of nothing so much as what is called common sense ; and
yet common sense very often, by its own keenness, is able
to see that these unavailable currencies of another s mind
are of more worth, if the world only knew it, than the
ready coin of its own; and so the practical and the ideal
nature are drawn together.
So Clayton and Russel had been friends from boyhood;
had roomed together their four years in college; and
although instruments of a vastly different quality, had
hitherto played the concerts of life with scarce a discord.
In person, Russel was of about the medium size, with a
well-knit, elastic frame, all whose movements were charac
terized by sprightliness and energy. He had a frank, open
countenance, clear blue eyes, a high forehead shaded by
clusters of curling brown hair ; his flexible lips wore a good-
natured yet half-sarcastic smile. His feelings, though not
inconveniently deep, were easily touched; he could be
moved to tears or to smiles, with the varying humor of a
friend ; but never so far as to lose his equipoise or, as he
phrased it, forget what he was about.
But we linger too long in description. We had better
let the reader hear the dramatis personce and judge for
himself.
"Well, now, Clayton," said Eussel, as he leaned back in
a stuffed leather chair, with a cigar between his fingers,
"how considerate of them to go off on that marooning
party, and leave us to ourselves, here! I say, old boy,
16 DRED
how goes the world now ? Keading law, hey ? booked
to be Judge Clayton the second ! Now, my dear fellow, if
I had the opportunities that you have only to step into
my father s shoes I should be a lucky fellow."
"Well, you are welcome to all my chances," said Clay
ton, throwing himself on one of the lounges; "for I begin
to see that I shall make very little of them."
"Why, what s the matter? Don t you like the
study ? "
"The study, perhaps, well enough but not the prac
tice. Keading the theory is always magnificent and grand.
Law hath her seat in the bosom of God ; her voice is the
harmony of the world. You remember we used to de
claim that. But, then, come to the practice of it, and what
do you find 1 Are legal examinations anything like search
ing after truth 1 Does not an advocate commit himself to
one-sided views of his subject, and habitually ignore all the
truth on the other side 1 Why, if I practiced law accord
ing to my conscience, I should be chased out of court in a
week."
"There you are again, Clayton, with your everlasting
conscience, which has been my plague ever since you were
a boy, and I have never been able to convince you what a
humbug it is! It s what I call a crotchety conscience
always in the way of your doing anything like anybody
else. I suppose, then, of course, you won t go into politi
cal life. Great pity, too. You d make a very imposing
figure as senator. You have exactly the cut for a conscript
father one of the old Viri Bomse. "
"And what do you think the old Viri Romse would do
in Washington? What sort of a figure do you think
Eegulus, or Quintus Curtius, or Mucius Scaevola, would
make there ? "
"Well, to be sure, the style of political action has al
tered somewhat since those days. If political duties were
CLAYTON 11
what they were then, if a gulf would open in Washing
ton, for example, you would be the fellow to plunge in,
horse and all, for the good of the republic; or, if any
thing was to be done by putting your right hand in the fire
and burning it off or, if there were any Carthaginians
who would cut off your eyelids, or roll you down hill in a
barrel of nails, for truth and your country s sake, you
would be on hand for any such matter. That s the sort of
foreign embassy that you would be after. All these old-
fashioned goings on would suit you to a T; but as to figur
ing in purple and fine linen, in Paris or London, as Ameri
can minister, you would make a dismal business of it. But
still, I thought you might practice law in a wholesome,
sensible way, take fees, make pleas with abundance of
classical allusions, show off your scholarship, marry a rich
wife, and make your children princes in the gates all
without treading on the toes of your too sensitive moral
what-d -ye-call- ems. But you ve done one thing like
other folks, at least, if all s true that I ve heard."
" And what is that, pray ? "
"What s that? Hear the fellow, now! How innocent
we are! I suppose you think I haven t heard of your
campaign in New York carrying off that princess of little
flirts, Miss Gordon. 7
Clayton responded to the charge only with a slight shrug
and a smile, in which not only his lips but his eyes took
part, while the color mounted to his forehead.
"Now, do you know, Clayton," continued Russel, "I
like that. Do you know, I always thought I should detest
the woman that you should fall in love with 1 It seemed
to me that such a portentous combination of all the virtues
as you were planning for would be something like a comet
an alarming spectacle. Do you remember (I should like
to know if you do) just what that woman was to be ?
was to have all the learning of a man, all the graces of a
VOL. I.
18 DRED
woman (I think I have it by heart) ; she was to be practi
cal, poetical, pious, and everything else that begins with a
p; she was to be elegant and earnest; take deep and ex
tensive views of life; and there was to be a certain air
about her, half Madonna, half Venus, made of every crea
ture s best. Ah, bless us! what poor creatures we are!
Here comes along our little coquette, flirting, tossing her
fan; picks you up like a great solid chip, as you are, and
throws you into her chip-basket of beaux, and goes on
dancing and flirting as before. Are n t you ashamed of it,
now 1 "
"No. I am really much like the minister in our town,
where we fitted for college, who married a pretty Polly
Peters in his sixtieth year, and, when the elders came to
inquire if she had the requisite qualification? for a pastor s
lady, he told them that he did n t think she had. But
the fact is, brethren, said he, though I don t pretend
she is a saint, she is a very pretty little sinner, and I love
her. That s just my case."
"Very sensibly said; and, do you know, as I told you
before, I m perfectly delighted with it, because it is acting
like other folks. But then, my dear fellow, do you think
you have come to anything really solid with this little
Venus of the sea-foam? Isn t it much the same as being
engaged to a cloud, or a butterfly 1 One wants a little
streak of reality about a person that one must take for bet
ter or for worse. You have a deep nature, Clayton. You
really want a wife who will have some glimmering percep
tion of the difference between you and the other things that
walk and wear coats, and are called men."
"Well, then, really," said Clayton, rousing himself, and
speaking with energy, "I 11 tell you just what it is: Nina
Gordon is a flirt and a coquette a spoiled child, if you
will. She is not at all the person I ever expected would
obtain any power over me. She has no culture, no read-
CLAYTON 19
ing, no habits of reflection; but she has, after all, a certain
tone and quality to her, a certain timbre, as the French
say of voices, which suits me. There is about her a
mixture of energy, individuality, and shrewdness, which
makes her, all uninformed as she is, more piquant and
attractive than any woman I ever fell in with. She never
reads; it is almost impossible to get her to read; but, if
you can catch her ear for five minutes, her literary judg
ments have a peculiar freshness and truth. And so with
her judgment on all other subjects, if you can stop her
long enough to give you an opinion. As to heart, I think
she has yet a wholly unawakened nature. She has lived
only in the world of sensation, and that is so abundant and
so buoyant in her that the deeper part still sleeps. It is
only two or three times that I have seen a flash of this
under nature look from her eyes, and color her voice and
intonation. And I believe I m quite sure that I am
the only person in the world that ever touched it at all.
I m not at all sure that she loves me now; but I m almost
equally sure that she will."
"They say," said Russel carelessly, "that she is gener
ally engaged to two or three at a time."
"That may be also," said Clayton indolently. "I
rather suspect it to be the case now, but it gives me no
concern. I ve seen all the men by whom she is sur
rounded, and I know perfectly well there s not one of them
that she cares a rush for."
"Well, but, my dear fellow, how can your extra fas
tidious moral notions stand the idea of her practicing this
system of deception ? "
"Why, of course, it isn t a thing to my taste; but then,
like the old parson, if I love the little sinner, what am
I to do? I suppose you think it a lover s paradox; yet
I assure you, though she deceives, she is not deceitful;
though she acts selfishly, she is not selfish. The fact is,
20 DEED
the child has grown up, motherless and an heiress, among
servants. She has, I believe, a sort of an aunt, or some such
relative, who nominally represents the head of the family
to the eye of the world. But I fancy little madam has had
full sway. Then she has been to a fashionable New York
boarding-school, and that has developed the talent of shirk
ing lessons, and evading rules, with a taste for sidewalk
flirtation. These are all the attainments that I ever heard of
being got at a fashionable boarding-school, unless it be a
hatred of books, and a general dread of literary culture."
"And her estates are "
"Nothing very considerable. Managed nominally by an
old uncle of hers; really by a very clever quadroon ser
vant, who was left her by her father, and who has received
an education, and has talents very superior to what are
common to those in his class. He is, in fact, the overseer
of her plantation, and I believe the most loyal, devoted
creature breathing."
"Clayton," said his companion, "this affair might not
be much to one who takes the world as I do, but for you it
may be a little too serious. Don t get in beyond your
depth."
"You are too late, Russel, for that I am in."
"Well, then, good luck to you, my dear fellow! And
now, as we are about it, I may as well tell you that I m
in for it, too. I suppose you have heard of Miss Benoir,
of Baltimore. Well, she is my fate."
" And are you really engaged 1 "
"All signed and sealed, and to be delivered next Christ
mas. "
"Let s hear about her."
"Well, she is of a good height (I always said I should n t
marry a short woman), not handsome, but reasonably
well looking very fine manners knows the world
plays and sings handsomely has a snug little fortune.
CLAYTON 21
Now, you know I never held to marrying for money and
nothing else; but then, as I m situated, I could not have
fallen in love without that requisite. Some people call
this heartless. I don t think it is. If I had met Mary
Benoir, and had known that she hadn t anything, why, I
should have known that it would n t do for me at all to
cultivate any particular intimacy; but, knowing she had
fortune, I looked a little further, and found she had other
things too. Now, if that s marrying for money, so be it.
Yours, Clayton, is a genuine case of falling in love. But,
as for me, I walked in with my eyes wide open."
"And what are you going to do with yourself in the
world, Kussel?"
"I must get into practice, and get some foothold there,
you know; and then, hey for Washington! I m to be
President, like every other adventurer in these United
States. Why not I as well as another man ? "
"I don t know, certainly," said Clayton, "if you want
it, and are willing to work hard enough and long enough,
and pay all the price. I would as soon spend my life
walking the drawn sword which they say is the bridge to
Mahomet s paradise."
"Ah! ah! I fancy I see you doing it! What a figure
you d make, my dear fellow, balancing and posturing on
the sword-blade, and making horrid wry faces! Yet I
know you d be as comfortable there as you would in politi
cal life. And yet, after all, you are greatly superior to
me in every respect. It would be a thousand pities if such
a man as you couldn t have the management of things.
But our national ship has to be navigated by second-rate
fellows, Jerry-go-nimbles, like me, simply because we are
good in dodging and turning. But that s the way.
Sharp s the word, and the sharpest wins."
"For my part," said Clayton, "I shall never be what the
world calls a successful man. There seems to be one in-
22 DEED
scription written over every passage of success in life, as
far as I ve seen, What shall it profit a man if he gain
the whole world, and lose his own soul ? "
"I don t understand you, Clayton."
"Why, it seems to me just this. As matters are going
on now in our country, I must either lower my standard
of right and honor, and sear my soul in all its nobler sen
sibilities, or I must be what the world calls an unsuccessful
man. There is no path in life, that I know of, where
huinbuggery and fraud and deceit are not essential to suc
cess, none where a man can make the purity of his
moral nature the first object. I see Satan standing in
every avenue, saying, All these things will I give thee, if
thou wilt fall down and worship me.
"Why don t you take to the ministry, then, Clayton,
at once, and put up a pulpit- cushion and big Bible between
you and the fiery darts of the devil ? "
"I m afraid I should meet him there, too. I could not
gain a right to speak in any pulpit without some profes
sion or pledge to speak this or that, that would be a snare
to my conscience by and by. At the door of every pulpit
I must swear always to find truth in a certain formula;
and living, prosperity, success, reputation, will all be
pledged on my finding it there. I tell you I should, if I
followed my own conscience, preach myself out of pulpits
quicker than I should plead out at the bar."
"Lord help you, Clayton! What will you do? Will
you settle down on your plantation, and raise cotton and
sell niggers? I m expecting to hear, every minute, that
you ve subscribed for the Liberator, and are going to
turn Abolitionist."
"I do mean to settle down on my plantation, but not to
raise cotton or negroes as a chief end of man. I do take
the Liberator, because I m a free man, and have a right
to take what I have a mind to. I don t agree with Garri-
CLAYTON 23
son, because I think I know more about the matter, where
I stand, than he does, or can, where he stands. But it s
his right, as an honest man, to say what he thinks; and
I should use it in his place. If I saw things as he does,
I should be an Abolitionist. But I don t."
"That s a mercy, at least," said Russel, "to a man with
your taste for martyrdom. But what are you going to
do ? "
"What any Christian man should do who finds four
hundred odd of his fellow men and women placed in a state
of absolute dependence on him. I m going to educate
and fit them for freedom. There isn t a sublimer power
on earth than God has given to us, masters. The law
gives us absolute and unlimited control. A plantation
such as a plantation might be would be a light to lighten
the Gentiles. There is a wonderful and beautiful de
velopment locked up in this Ethiopian race, and it is worth
being a life- object to unlock it. The raising of cotton is
to be the least of the thing. I regard my plantation as a
sphere for raising men and women, and demonstrating the
capabilities of a race."
"Selah!" said Eussel.
Clayton looked angry.
"I beg your pardon, Clayton. This is all superb, sub
lime! There is just one objection to it it is wholly
impossible. "
"Every good and great thing has been called impossible
before it is done."
"Well, let me tell you, Clayton, just how it will be.
You will be a mark for arrows, both sides. You will
offend all your neighbors by doing better than they do.
You will bring your negroes up to a point in which they
will meet the current of the whole community against
them, and meanwhile you will get no credit with the
Abolitionists. They will call you a cut-throat, pirate,
24 DEED
sheep-stealer, and all the rest of their elegant little list of
embellishments, all the same. You 11 get a state of things
that nobody can manage but yourself, and you by the
hardest; and then you 11 die, and it 11 all run to the devil
faster than you run it up. Now, if you would do the
thing by halves, it wouldn t be so bad; but I know you
of old. You won t be satisfied with teaching a catechism
and a few hymns, parrot-wise, which I think is a respecta
ble religious amusement for our women. You 11 teach em
all to read and write and think and speak. I shouldn t
wonder to hear of an importation of black-boards and spell
ing-books. You 11 want a lyceum and debating society.
Pray, what does sister Anne say to all this? Anne is a
sensible girl now, but I 11 warrant you ve got her to go in
for it."
"Anne is as much interested as I, but her practical tact
is greater than mine, and she is of use in detecting diffi
culties that I do not see. I have an excellent man, who
enters fully into my views, who takes charge of the busi
ness interests of the plantation, instead of one of these
scoundrel overseers. There is to be a graduated system of
work and wages introduced a system that shall teach the
nature and rights of property and train to habits of indus
try and frugality, by making every man s acquirements
equal to his industry and good conduct. 7
"And what sort of a support do you expect to make out
of all this ? Are you going to live for them, or they for
you 1 "
"I shall set them the example of living for them, and
trust to awaken the good that is in them, in return. The
strong ought to live for the weak the cultivated for the
ignorant. "
"Well, Clayton, the Lord help you! I m in earnest
now fact! Though I know you won t do it, yet I wish
you could. It s a pity, Clayton, you were born in this
CLAYTON 25
world. It is n t you, but our planet and planetary ways
that are in fault. Your mind is a splendid storehouse
gold and gems of Ophir but they are all up in the fifth
story, and no staircase to get em down into common life.
Now I ve just enough appreciation of the sort of thing
that s in you, not to laugh at you. Nine out of ten
would. To tell you the truth, if I were already set up in
life, and had as definite a position as you have, family,
friends, influence, and means, why, perhaps I might
afford to cultivate this style of thing. But I tell you what
it is, Clayton, such a conscience as yours is cursedly expen
sive to keep. It s like a carriage a fellow mustn t set
it up unless he can afford it. It s one of the luxuries."
"It s a necessary of life with me," said Clayton dryly.
"Well, that s your nature. I can t afford it. I ve got
my way to make. I must succeed, and with your ultra
notions I couldn t succeed. So there it is. After all, I
can be as religious as dozens of your most respectable men,
who have taken their seats in the night train for Paradise
and keep the daylight for their own business."
"I dare say you can."
"Yes, and I shall get all I aim at; and you, Clayton,
will be always an unhappy, dissatisfied aspirant after some
thing too high for mortality. There s just the difference
between us."
The conversation was here interrupted by the return of
the family party.
CHAPTER III
THE CLAYTON FAMILY AND SISTER ANNE
THE family party, which was now ushered in, consisted
of Clayton s father, mother, and sister. Judge Clayton
was a tall, dignified, elderly personage, in whom one recog
nized, at a glance, the gentleman of the old school. His
hair, snowy white, formed a singular contrast with the
brightness of his blue eyes, whose peculiar acuteness of
glance might remind one of a falcon. There was something
stately in the position of the head and the carriage of the
figure, and a punctilious exactness in the whole air and
manner, that gave one a slight impression of sternness.
The clear, sharp blue of his eye seemed to be that of a calm
and decided intellect, of a logical severity of thought; and
contrasted with the silvery hair with that same expression
of cold beauty that is given by the contrast of snow moun
tains cutting into the keen, metallic blue of an Alpine sky.
One should apprehend much to fear from such a man s
reason little to hope from any outburst of his emotional
nature. Yet, as a man, perhaps injustice was done to
Judge Clayton by this first impression; for there was, deep
beneath this external coldness, a severely repressed nature,
of the most fiery and passionate vehemence. His family
affections were strong and tender, seldom manifested in
words, but always by the most exact appreciation and
consideration for all who came within his sphere. He was
strictly and impartially just in all the little minutiae of
social and domestic life, never hesitating to speak a truth
or acknowledge an error.
THE CLAYTON FAMILY AND SISTER ANNE 27
Mrs. Clayton was a high-bred, elderly lady, whose well-
preserved delicacy of complexion, brilliant dark eyes, and
fine figure spoke of a youth of beauty. Of a nature imagi
native, impulsive, and ardent, inclining constantly to gen
erous extremes, she had thrown herself with passionate
devotion round her clear-judging husband, as the Alpine
rose girdles with beauty the breast of the bright, pure
glacier.
Between Clayton and his father there existed an affection
deep and entire; yet as the son developed to manhood, it
became increasingly evident that they could never move
harmoniously in the same practical orbit. The nature of
the son was so veined and crossed with that of the mother,
that the father, in attempting the age-long and often-tried
experiment of making his child an exact copy of himself,
found himself extremely puzzled and confused in the opera
tion. Clayton was ideal to an excess; ideality colored
every faculty of his mind, and swayed all his reasonings,
as an unseen magnet will swerve the needle. Ideality per
vaded his conscientiousness, urging him always to rise above
the commonly received and so-called practical in morals.
Hence, while he worshiped the theory of law, the practice
filled him with disgust; and his father was obliged con
stantly to point out deficiencies in reasonings, founded more
on a keen appreciation of what things ought to be, than on
a practical regard to what they are. Nevertheless, Clay
ton partook enough of his father s strong and steady nature
to be his mother s idol, who, perhaps, loved this second
rendering of the parental nature with even more doting
tenderness than the first.
Anne Clayton was the eldest of three sisters, and the
special companion and confidante of the brother; and as she
stands there untying her bonnet-strings, we must also
present her to the reader. She is a little above the me
dium height, with that breadth and full development of
28 DEED
chest which one admires in English women. She carries
her well-formed head on her graceful shoulders with a posi
tive, decided air, only a little on this side of haughtiness.
Her clear brown complexion reddens into a fine glow in
the cheek, giving one the impression of sound, perfect
health. The positive outline of the small aquiline nose;
the large, frank, well-formed mouth, with its clear rows of
shining teeth; the brown eyes, which have caught some
thing of the falcon keenness of the father, are points in the
picture by no means to be overlooked. Taking her air
altogether, there was an honest frankness about her which
encouraged conversation, and put one instantly at ease.
Yet no man in his senses could ever venture to take the
slightest liberty with Anne Clayton. With all her frank
ness, there was ever in her manner a perfectly defined
"thus far shalt thou come, and no further." Beaux, suit
ors, lovers in abundance, had stood, knelt, and sighed pro
testing, at her shrine. Yet Anne Clayton was twenty-
seven, and unmarried. Everybody wondered why ; and as
to that, we can only wonder with the rest. Her own ac
count of the matter was simple and positive. She did not
wish to marry was happy enough without.
The intimacy between the brother and sister had been
more than usually strong, notwithstanding marked differ
ences of character; for Anne had not a particle of ideality.
Sense she had, shrewdness, and a pleasant dash of humor
withal; but she was eminently what people call a practical
girl. She admired highly the contrary of all this in her
brother ; she delighted in the poetic-heroic element in him,
for much the same reason that young ladies used to admire
Thaddeus of Warsaw and William Wallace because it
was something quite out of her line. In the whole world
of ideas she had an almost idolatrous veneration for her
brother; in the sphere of practical operations she felt free
to assert, with a certain good-natured positiveness, her
THE CLAYTON FAMILY AND SISTER ANNE 29
own superiority. There was no one in the world, perhaps,
of whose judgment in this respect Clayton stood more in
awe.
At the present juncture of affairs Clayton felt himself
rather awkwardly embarrassed in communicating to her an
event which she would immediately feel she had a right
to know before. A sister of Anne Clayton s positive char
acter does not usually live twenty-seven years in constant
intimacy with a brother like Clayton, without such an at
tachment as renders the first announcement of a contem
plated marriage somewhat painful. Why, then, had Clay
ton, who always unreservedly corresponded with his sister,
not kept her apprised of his gradual attachment to Nina?
The secret of the matter was, that he had had an instinc
tive consciousness that he could not present Nina to the
practical, clear- judging mind of his sister as she appeared
through the mist and spray of his imaginative nature.
The hard facts of her case would be sure to tell against her
in any communication he might make; and sensitive peo
ple never like the fatigue of justifying their instincts.
Nothing, in fact, is less capable of being justified by tech
nical reasons than those fine insights into character where
upon affection is built. We have all had experience of
preferences which would not follow the most exactly as
certained catalogue of virtues, and would be made captive
where there was very little to be said in justification of
the captivity.
But, meanwhile, rumor, always busy, had not failed to
convey to Anne Clayton some suspicions of what was pass
ing; and though her delicacy and pride forbade any allu
sion to it, she keenly felt the want of confidence, and of
course was not any more charitably disposed towards the
little rival for this reason. But now the matter had at
tained such a shape in Clayton s mind that he felt the
necessity of apprising his family and friends. With his
30 DEED
mother the task was made easier by the abundant hopeful
ness of her nature, which enabled her in a moment to throw
herself into the sympathies of those she loved. To her
had been deputed the office of first breaking the tidings to
Anne, and she had accomplished it during the pleasure-
party of the morning.
The first glance that passed between Clayton and his
sister, as she entered the room,- on her return from the
party, showed him that she was discomposed and unhappy.
She did not remain long in the apartment, or seem dis
posed to join in conversation; and after a few abstracted
moments, she passed through the open door into the gar
den, and began to busy herself apparently among her
plants. Clayton followed her. He came and stood
silently beside her for some time, watching her as she
picked the dead leaves off her geranium.
"Mother has told you," he said, at length.
"Yes," said Anne.
There was a long pause, and Anne picked off dry leaves
and green promiscuously, threatening to demolish the
bush.
"Anne," said Clayton, "how I wish you could see
her!"
"I ve heard of her," replied Anne dryly, "through the
Livingstons. "
"And what have you heard?" said Clayton eagerly.
"Not such things as I could wish, Edward; riot such as
I expected to hear of the lady that you would choose."
"And, pray, what have you heard? Out with it," said
Clayton, "let s know what the world says of her."
"Well, the world says," said Anne, "that she is a co
quette, a flirt, a jilt. From all I ve heard, I should think
she must be an unprincipled girl."
"That is hard language, Anne."
"Truth is generally hard," replied Anne.
THE CLAYTON FAMILY AND SISTER ANNE 31
"My dear sister," said Clayton, taking her hand, and
seating her on the seat in the garden, "have you lost all
faith in me 1 "
"I think it would be nearer truth," replied Anne, "to
say that you had lost all faith in me. Why am I the last
one to know all this? Why am I to hear it first from
reports, and every way but from you? Would I have
treated you so ? Did I ever have anything that I did not
tell you? Down to my very soul I ve always told you
everything ! "
" This is true, I own, dear Anne ; but what if you had
loved some man that you felt sure I should not like?
Now, you are a positive person, Anne, and this might hap
pen. Would you want to tell me at once? Would you
not, perhaps, wait, and hesitate, and put off, for one
reason or another, from day to day, and find it grow more
and more difficult the longer you waited ? "
"I can t tell," said Anne bitterly. "I never did love
any one better than you, that s the trouble."
"Neither do I love anybody better than you, Anne.
The love I have for you is a whole, perfect thing, just as
it was. See if you do not find me every way as devoted.
My heart was only opened to take in another love, an
other wholly different; and which, because it is so wholly
different, never can infringe on the love I bear to you.
And, Anne, my dear sister, if you could love her as a part
of me " -
"I wish I could," said Anne, somewhat softened; "but
what I ve heard has been so unfavorable! She is not, in
the least, the person I should have expected you to fancy,
Edward. Of all things I despise a woman who trifles with
the affections of gentlemen."
"Well, but, my dear, Nina isn t a woman; she is a
child a gay, beautiful, unformed child; and I m sure
you may apply to her what Pope says :
32 DEED
If to her share some female errors fall,
Look in her face, and you forget them all. "
"Yes, indeed," said Anne, "I believe all you men are
alike a pretty face bewitches any of you. I thought
you were an exception, Edward; but there you are."
"But, Anne, is this the way to encourage my confi
dence? Suppose I am bewitched and enchanted, you can
not disentangle me without indulgence. Say what you
will about it, the fact is just this it is my fate to love
this child. I ve tried to love many women before. I have
seen many whom I knew no sort of reason why I should n t
love, handsomer far, more cultivated, more accomplished,
and yet I ve seen them without a movement or a flut
ter of the pulse. But this girl has awakened all there
is to me. I do not see in her what the world sees. I see
the ideal image of what she can be, what I m sure she will
be, when her nature is fully awakened and developed."
"Just there, Edward just that," said Anne. "You
never see anything ; that is, you see a glorified image a
something that might, could, would, or should be that is
your difficulty. You glorify an ordinary boarding-school
coquette into something symbolic, sublime; you clothe her
with all your own ideas, and then fall down to worship her. "
"Well, my dear Anne, suppose it were so, what then?
I am, as you say, ideal, you, real. Well, be it so; I
must act according to what is in me. I have a right to
my nature, you to yours. But it is not every person
whom I can idealize ; and I suspect this is the great reason
why I never could love some very fine women with whom
I have associated on intimate terms; they had no capacity
of being idealized; they could receive no color from my
fancy ; they wanted, in short, just what Nina has. She is
just like one of those little whisking, chattering cascades
in the White Mountains, and the atmosphere round her is
favorable to rainbows."
THE CLAYTON FAMILY AND SISTER ANNE 33
"And you always see her through them."
"Even so, sister; but some people I cannot. Why
should you find fault with me ? It s a pleasant thing to
look through a rainbow. Why should you seek to disen
chant, if I can be enchanted 1 "
"Why," replied Anne, "you remember the man who
took his pay of the fairies in gold and diamonds, and,
after he had passed a certain brook, found it all turned to
slate-stones. Now, marriage is like that brook; many a
poor fellow finds his diamonds turned to slate on the other
side; and this is why I put in my plain, hard common
sense against your visions. I see the plain facts about
this young girl; that she is an acknowledged flirt, a noted
coquette and jilt; and a woman who is so is necessarily
heartless; and you are too good, Edward, too noble, I
have loved you too long, to be willing to give you up to
suck a woman."
"There, my dear Anne, there are at least a dozen points
in that sentence to which I don t agree. In the first place,
as to coquetry, it is n t the unpardonable sin in my eyes
that is, under some circumstances."
"That is, you mean, when Nina Gordon is the
coquette ? "
"No, I don t mean that. But the fact is, Anne, there
is so little of true sincerity, so little real benevolence and
charity, in the common intercourse of young gentlemen and
ladies in society, and our sex, who ought to set the ex
ample, are so selfish and unprincipled in their ways of
treating women, that I do not wonder that, now and then,
a lively girl, who has the power, avenges her sex by play
ing off our weak points. Now, I don t think Nina capable
of trifling with a real, deep, unselfish attachment a love
which sought her good, and was willing to sacrifice itself
for her; but I don t believe any such has ever been put at
her disposal. There s a great difference between a man s
VOL. I.
34 DRED
wanting a woman to love him and loving her. Wanting
to appropriate a woman as a wife does not, of course, im
ply that a man loves her, or that he is capable of loving
anything. All these things girls feel, because their in
stincts are quick; and they are often accused of trifling
with a man s heart when they only see through him, and
know he has n t any. Besides, love of power has always
been considered a respectable sin in us men; and why
should we denounce a woman for loving her kind of
power ? "
"Oh, well, Edward, there isn t anything in the world
that you cannot theorize into beauty. But I don t like
coquettes, for all that; and then, I m told Nina Gordon
is so very odd, and says and does such very extraordinary
things sometimes."
"Well, perhaps that charms me the more. In this con
ventional world, where women are all rubbed into one uni
form surface, like coins in one s pocket, it s a pleasure
now and then to find one who can t be made to do and
think like all the rest. You have a little dash of this
merit yourself, Anne ; but you must consider that you have
been brought up with mamma, under her influence, trained
and guided every hour, even more than you knew. Nina
has grown up an heiress among servants, a boarding-school
girl in New York; and, furthermore, you are twenty-seven
and she is eighteen, and a great deal may be learned be
tween eighteen and twenty-seven."
"But, brother, you remember Miss Hannah More says,
or some of those good women, I forget who: at any
rate it s a sensible saying, * that a man who chooses his
wife as he would a picture in a public exhibition-room
should remember that there is this difference, that the pic
ture cannot go back to the exhibition, but the woman may.
You have chosen her from seeing her brilliancy in so
ciety ; but, after all, can you make her happy in the dull
THE CLAYTON FAMILY AND SISTER ANNE 35
routine of a commonplace life ? Is she not one of the sort
that must have a constant round of company and excite
ment to keep her in spirits 1 "
"I think not," said Clayton. "I think she is one of
those whose vitality is in herself, and one whose freshness
and originality will keep life anywhere from being com
monplace; and that, living with us, she will sympathize,
naturally, in all our pursuits."
"Well, now, don t flatter yourself, brother, that you can
make this girl over, and bring her to any of your stan
dards. "
"Who I? Did you think I meditated such an imper
tinence? The last thing I should try, to marry a wife to
educate her! It s generally one of the most selfish tricks
of our sex. Besides, I don t want a wife who will be a
mere mirror of my opinions and sentiments. I don t want
an innocent sheet of blotting-paper, meekly sucking up all
I say, and giving a little fainter impression of my ideas.
I want a wife for an alterative; all the vivacities of life
lie in differences."
"Why, surely," said Anne, "one wants one s friends
to be congenial, I should think."
"So we do; and there is nothing in the world so con
genial as differences. To be sure, the differences must be
harmonious. In music, now, for instance, one doesn t
want a repetition of the same notes, but differing notes that
chord. Nay, even discords are indispensable to complete
harmony. Now, Nina has just that difference from me
which chords with me ; and all our little quarrels for
we have had a good many, and I dare say shall have more
are only a sort of chromatic passages, discords of the
seventh, leading into harmony. My life is inward, theo
rizing, self-absorbed. I am hypochondriac often mor
bid. The vivacity and acuteness of her outer life make
her just what I need. She wakens, she rouses, and keeps
3G DEED
me in play ; and her quick instincts are often more than a
match for my reason. I reverence the child, then, in
spite of her faults. She has taught me many things."
"Well," said Anne, laughing, "I give you up, if it
comes to that. If you come to talk about reverencing
Nina Gordon, I see it s all over with you, Edward, and
I 11 be good natured, and make the best of it. I hope it
may all be true that you think, and a great deal more.
At all events, no effort of mine shall be wanting to make
you as happy in your new relation as you ought to be."
"There, now, that s Anne Clayton! It s just like you,
sister, and I couldn t say anything better than that. You
have unburdened your conscience, you have done all you
can for me, and now very properly yield to the inevitable.
Nina, I know, will love you; and if you never try to
advise her and influence her, you will influence her very
much. Good people are a long while learning that, Anne.
They think to do good to others by interfering and ad
vising. They don t know that all they have to do is to
live. When I first knew Nina, I was silly enough to try
my hand that way myself; but I ve learned better.
Now, when Nina comes to us, all that you and mamma
have got to do is just to be kind to her, and live as you
always have lived ; and whatever needs to be altered in her,
she will alter herself. "
"Well," said Anne, "I wish, as it is so, that I could see
her."
" Suppose you write a few lines to her in this letter that
I am going to write; and then that will lead in due time
to a visit."
"Anything in the world, Edward, that you say."
CHAPTER IV
THE GORDON FAMILY
A WEEK or two had passed over the head of Nina Gor
don since she was first introduced to our readers, and dur
ing this time she had become familiar with the details of
her home life. Nominally she stood at the head of her
plantation, as mistress and queen in her own right of all,
both in doors and out; but, really, she found herself, by
her own youth and inexperience, her ignorance of practical
details, very much in the hands of those she professed to
govern.
The duties of a southern housekeeper, on a plantation,
are onerous beyond any amount of northern conception.
Every article wanted for daily consumption must be kept
under lock and key, and doled out as need arises. For
the most part, the servants are only grown-up children,
without consideration, forethought, or self-control, quarrel
ing with each other, and divided into parties and factions,
hopeless of any reasonable control. Every article of
wear, for some hundreds of people, must be thought of,
purchased, cut and made, under the direction of the mis
tress; and add to this the care of young children, whose
childish mothers are totally unfit to govern or care for
them, and we have some slight idea of what devolves on
southern housekeepers.
Our reader has seen what Nina was on her return from
New York, and can easily imagine that she had no idea of
embracing, in good earnest, the hard duties of such a life.
In fact, since the death of Nina s mother, the situation
38 DEED
of the mistress of the family had been only nominally filled
by her aunt, Mrs. Nesbit. The real housekeeper, in fact,
was an old mulatto woman, named Katy, who had been
trained by Nina s mother. Notwithstanding the general
inefficiency and childishness of negro servants, there often
are to be found among them those of great practical ability.
Whenever owners, through necessity or from tact, select
such servants, and subject them to the kind of training and
responsibility which belong to a state of freedom, the same
qualities are developed which exist in free society. Nina s
mother, being always in delicate health, had, from neces
sity, been obliged to commit much responsibility to "Aunt
Katy," as she was called; and she had grown up under
the discipline into a very efficient housekeeper. With her
tall red turban, her jingling bunch of keys, and an abun
dant sense of the importance of her office, she was a digni
tary not lightly to be disregarded.
It is true that she professed the utmost deference for her
young mistress, and very generally passed the compliment
of inquiring what she would have done; but it was pretty
generally understood that her assent to Aunt Katy s pro
positions was considered as much a matter of course as the
queen s to a ministerial recommendation. Indeed, had
Nina chosen to demur, her prime minister had the power,
without departing in the slightest degree from a respectful
bearing, to involve her in labyrinths of perplexity without
end. And as Nina hated trouble, and wanted, above all
things, to have her time to herself for her own amusement,
she wisely concluded not to interfere with Aunt Katy s
reign, and to get by persuasion and coaxing what the old
body would have been far too consequential and opinion
ated to give to authority.
In like manner, at the head of all outdoor affairs was
the young quadroon, Harry, whom we introduced in the
first chapter. In order to come fully at the relation in
THE GORDON FAMILY 39
which he stood to the estate, we must, after the fashion of
historians generally, go back a hundred years or so, in
order to give our readers a fair start. Behold us, there
fore, assuming historic dignity, as follows.
Among the first emigrants to Virginia, in its colonial
days, was one Thomas Gordon, Knight, a distant offshoot
of the noble Gordon family, renowned in Scottish history.
Being a gentleman of some considerable energy, and im
patient of the narrow limits of the Old World, where he
found little opportunity to obtain that wealth which was
necessary to meet the demands of his family pride, he struck
off for himself into Virginia. Naturally of an adventurous
turn, he was one of the first to propose the enterprise which
afterwards resulted in a settlement on the banks of the
Chowan River, in North Carolina. Here he took up for
himself a large tract of the finest alluvial land, and set
himself to the business of planting, with the energy and
skill characteristic of his nation; and as the soil was new
and fertile, he soon received a very munificent return for his
enterprise. Inspired with remembrances of old ancestral
renown, the Gordon family transmitted in their descent all
the traditions, feelings, and habits which were the growth
of the aristocratic caste from which they sprung. The
name of Canema, given to the estate, came from an Indian
guide and interpreter, who accompanied the first Colonel
Gordon as confidential servant. The estate, being entailed,
passed down through the colonial times unbroken in the
family, whose wealth, for some years, seemed to increase
with every generation.
The family mansion was one of those fond reproductions
of the architectural style of the landed gentry in England,
in which, as far as their means could compass it, the plant
ers were fond of indulging. Carpenters and carvers had
been brought over, at great expense, from the old country,
to give the fruits of their skill in its erection; and it was a
40 DEED
fancy of the ancestor who built it to display, in its wood
work, that exuberance of new and rare woods with which
the American continent was supposed to abound. He had
made an adventurous voyage into South America, and
brought from thence specimens of those materials more
brilliant than rosewood, and hard as ebony, which grow so
profusely on the banks of the Amazon that the natives
use them for timber. The floor of the central hall of the
house was a curiously inlaid parquet of these brilliant ma
terials, arranged in fine block-work, highly polished.
The outside of the house was built in the old Virginian
fashion, with two tiers of balconies running completely
round, as being much better suited to the American climate
than any of European mode. The inside, however, was
decorated with sculpture and carvings, copied, many of
them, from ancestral residences in Scotland, giving to the
mansion an air of premature antiquity.
Here, for two or three generations, the Gordon family had
lived in opulence. During the time, however, of Nina s
father, and still more after his death, there appeared evi
dently on the place signs of that gradual decay which has
conducted many an old Virginian family to poverty and
ruin. Slave labor, of all others the most worthless and
profitless, had exhausted the first vigor of the soil, and the
proprietors gradually degenerated from those habits of
energy which were called forth by the necessities of the first
settlers, and everything proceeded with that free-and-easy
abandon, in which both master and slave appeared to have
one common object, that of proving who should waste
with most freedom.
At Colonel Gordon s death, he had bequeathed, as we
have already shown, the whole family estate to his daugh
ter, under the care of a servant, of whose uncommon intel
ligence and thorough devotion of heart he had the most
ample proof. When it is reflected that the overseers are
THE GOEDON FAMILY 41
generally taken from a class of whites who are often lower in
ignorance and barbarism than even the slaves, and that their
wastefulness and rapacity are a byword among the planters,
it is no wonder that Colonel Gordon thought that, in leav
ing his plantation under the care of one so energetic, com
petent, and faithful as Harry, he had made the best possi
ble provision for his daughter.
Harry was the son of his master, and inherited much of
the temper and constitution of his father, tempered by the
soft and genial temperament of the beautiful Eboe mulat-
tress, who was his mother. From this circumstance Harry
had received advantages of education very superior to what
commonly fell to the lot of his class. He had also accom
panied his master as valet during the tour of Europe, and
thus his opportunities of general observation had been still
further enlarged, and that tact, by which those of the
mixed blood seem so peculiarly fitted to appreciate all the
finer aspects of conventional life, had been called out and
exercised; so that it would be difficult in any circle to
meet with a more agreeable and gentlemanly person. In
leaving a man of this character, and his own son, still in
the bonds of slavery, Colonel Gordon was influenced by
that passionate devotion to his daughter which with him
overpowered every consideration. A man so cultivated, he
argued to himself, might find many avenues opened to him
in freedom; might be tempted to leave the estate to other
hands, and seek his own fortune. He therefore resolved
to leave him bound by an indissoluble tie for a term of
years, trusting to his attachment to Nina to make this ser
vice tolerable.
Possessed of very uncommon judgment, firmness, and
knowledge of human nature, Harry had found means to ac
quire great ascendency over the hands of the plantation,
and, either through fear or through friendship, there was
a universal subordination to him. The executors of the
42 DEED
estate scarcely made even a feint of overseeing him ; and he
proceeded, to all intents and purposes, with the perfect ease
of a free man. Everybody, for miles around, knew and
respected him; and had he not been possessed of a good
share of the thoughtful, forecasting temperament derived
from his Scottish parentage, he might have been completely
happy, and forgotten even the existence of the chains
whose weight he never felt.
It was only in the presence of Tom Gordon Colonel
Gordon s lawful son that he ever realized that he was a
slave. From childhood there had been a rooted enmity
between the brothers, which deepened as years passed on;
and as he found himself, on every return of the young
man to the place, subjected to taunts and ill usage, to
which his defenseless position left him no power to reply,
he had resolved never to marry, and lay the foundation for
a family, until such time as he should be able to have the
command of his own destiny and that of his household.
But the charms of a pretty French quadroon overcame the
dictates of prudence.
The history of Tom Gordon is the history of many a
young man grown up under the institutions and in the
state of society which formed him. Nature had endowed
him with no mean share of talent, and with that perilous
quickness of nervous organization which, like fire, is a
good servant, but a bad master. Out of those elements,
with due training, might have been formed an efficient and
eloquent public man; but brought up from childhood
among servants to whom his infant will was law, indulged
during the period of infantile beauty and grace in the full
expression of every whim, growing into boyhood among
slaves with but the average amount of plantation morality,
his passions developed at a fearfully early time of life;
and before his father thought of seizing the reins of
authority, they had gone out of his hands forever. Tutor
THE GORDON FAMILY 43
after tutor was employed on the plantation to instruct
him, and left, terrified by his temper. The secluded
nature of the plantation left him without that healthful
stimulus of society which is often a help in enabling a boy
to come to the knowledge and control of himself. His
associates were either the slaves, or the overseers, who
are generally unprincipled and artful, or the surrounding
whites, who lay in a yet lower deep of degradation. For
one reason or another, it was for the interest of all these to
natter his vices and covertly to assist him in opposing and
deceiving his parents. Thus an early age saw him an
adept in every low form of vice. In despair, he was at
length sent to an academy at the North, where he com
menced his career on the first day by striking the teacher in
the face, and was consequently expelled. Thence he went
to another, where, learning caution from experience, he was
enabled to maintain his foothold. There he was a success
ful colporteur and missionary in the way of introducing a
knowledge of bowie-knives, revolvers, and vicious litera
ture. Artful, bold, and daring, his residence for a year at
a school was sufficient to initiate in the way of ruin perhaps
one fourth of the boys. He was handsome, and, when not
provoked, good natured, and had that off-hand way of
spending money which passes among boys for generosity.
The simple sons of hard-working farmers, bred in habits of
industry and frugality, were dazzled and astonished by the
freedom with which he talked and drank and spit and
swore. He was a hero in their eye, and they began to
wonder at the number of things, to them unknown before,
which went to make up the necessaries of life. From
school he was transferred to college, and there placed under
the care of a professor, who was paid an exorbitant sum for
overlooking his affairs. The consequence was, that while
many a northern boy, whose father could not afford to pay
for similar patronage, was disciplined, rusticated, or ex-
44 DEED
pelled, as the case might be, Tom Gordon exploited glori
ously through college, getting drunk every week or two,
breaking windows, smoking freshmen, heading various
sprees in different parts of the country, and at last gradu
ating nobody knew how, except the patron professor, who
received an extra sum for the extra difficulties of the case.
Returned home, he went into a lawyer s office in Raleigh,
where, by a pleasant fiction, he was said to be reading law,
because he was occasionally seen at the office during the
intervals of his more serious avocations of gambling and
horse-racing and drinking. His father, an affectionate
but passionate man, was wholly unable to control him, and
the conflicts between them often shook the whole domestic
fabric. Nevertheless, to the last Colonel Gordon indulged
the old hope for such cases made and provided, that Tom
would get through sowing his wild oats some time, and
settle down and be a respectable man; in which hope he
left him the half of his property. Since that time, Tom
seemed to have studied on no subject except how to accele
rate the growth of those wings which riches are said to be
inclined to take, under the most favorable circumstances.
As often happens in such cases of utter ruin, Tom Gor
don was a much worse character for all the elements of good
which he possessed. He had sufficient perception of right,
and sufficient conscience remaining, to make him bitter and
uncomfortable. In proportion as he knew himself un
worthy of his father s affection and trust, he became jealous
and angry at any indications of the want of it. He had
contracted a settled ill will to his sister, for no other ap
parent reason except that the father took a comfort in her
which he did not in him. From childhood it was his
habit to vex and annoy her in every possible way; and it
was for this reason, among many others, that Harry had
persuaded Mr. John Gordon, Nina s uncle and guardian,
to place her at the New York boarding-school, where she
THE GORDON FAMILY 45
acquired what is termed an education. After finishing her
school career, she had been spending a few months in a
family of a cousin of her mother s, and running with loose
rein the career of fashionable gayety.
Luckily, she brought home with her unspoiled a genuine
love of nature, which made the rural habits of plantation
life agreeable to her. Neighbors there were few. Her
uncle s plantation, five miles distant, was the nearest.
Other families with whom the Gordons were in the habit
of exchanging occasional visits were some ten or fifteen
miles distant. It was Nina s delight, however, in her mus
lin wrapper and straw hat, to patter about over the planta
tion, to chat with the negroes among their cabins, amusing
herself with the various drolleries and peculiarities to
which long absence had given the zest of novelty. Then
she would call for her pony, and, attended by Harry or
some of her servants, would career through the woods,
gathering the wild-flowers with which they abound; per
haps stop for a day at her uncle s, have a chat and a romp
with him, and return the next morning.
In the comparative solitude of her present life her mind
began to clear itself of some former follies, as water when
at rest deposits the sediment which clouded it. Apart
from the crowd, and the world of gayeties which had diz
zied her, she could not help admitting to herself the folly
of much she had been doing. Something, doubtless, was
added to this by the letters of Clayton. The tone of them,
so manly and sincere, so respectful and kind, so removed
either from adulation or sentimentalism, had an effect upon
her greater than she was herself aware of. So Nina, in
her positive and off-hand way, sat down, one day, and
wrote farewell letters to both her other lovers, and felt
herself quite relieved by the process.
A young person could scarce stand more entirely alone,
as to sympathetic intercourse with relations, than Nina. It
46 DEED
is true that the presence of her mother s sister in the fam
ily caused it to be said that she was residing under the care
of an aunt. Mrs. Nesbit, however, was simply one of
those well-bred, well-dressed lay-figures, whose only office
in life seems to be to occupy a certain room in a house, to
sit in certain chairs at proper hours, to make certain re
marks at suitable intervals of conversation. In her youth
this lady had run quite a career as a belle and beauty.
Nature had endowed her with a handsome face and figure,
and youth arid the pleasure of admiration for some years
supplied a sufficient flow of animal spirits to make the
beauty effective. Early married, she became the mother
of several children, who were one by one swept into the
grave. The death of her husband, last of all, left her with
a very small fortune alone in the world; and like many in
similar circumstances, she was content to sink into an
appendage to another s family.
Mrs. Nesbit considered herself very religious; and as
there is a great deal that passes for religion, ordinarily, of
which she may be fairly considered a representative, we
will present our readers with a philosophical analysis of
the article. When young, she had thought only of self in
the form of admiration and the indulgence of her animal
spirits. When married, she had thought of self only in
her husband and children, whom she loved because they
were hers, and for no other reason.
When death swept away her domestic circle, and time
stole the beauty and freshness of animal spirits, her self-
love took another form; and perceiving that this world
was becoming to her somewhat passe, she determined to
make the best of her chance for another. Religion she
looked upon in the light of a ticket, which, being once
purchased, and snugly laid away in a pocketbook, is to be
produced at the celestial gate, and thus secure admission to
heaven.
THE GORDON FAMILY 47
At a certain period of her life, while she deemed this
ticket unpurchased, she was extremely low spirited and
gloomy, and went through a quantity of theological reading
enough to have astonished herself, had she foreseen it in
the days of her belleship. As the result of all, she at last
presented herself as a candidate for admission to a Presby
terian church in the vicinity, there professing her deter
mination to run the Christian race. By the Christian race,
she understood going at certain stated times to religious
meetings, reading the Bible and hymn-book at certain
hours in the day, giving at regular intervals stipulated
sums to religious charities, and preserving a general state
of leaden indifference to everybody and everything in the
world.
She thus fondly imagined that she had renounced the
world, because she looked back with disgust on gayeties
for which she had no longer strength or spirits. Nor did
she dream that the intensity with which her mind traveled
the narrow world of self, dwelling on the plaits of her caps,
the cut of her stone- colored satin gowns, the making of
her tea and her bed, and the saving of her narrow income,
was exactly the same in kind, though far less agreeable in
development, as that which once expended itself in dress
ing and dancing. Like many other apparently negative
characters, she had a pertinacious intensity of an extremely
narrow and aimless self-will. Her plans of life, small as
they were, had a thousand crimps and plaits, to every one
of which she adhered with invincible pertinacity. The
poor lady little imagined, when she sat, with such punctil
ious satisfaction, while the Eev. Mr. Orthodoxy demon
strated that selfishness is the essence of all moral evil, that
the sentiment had the slightest application to her; nor
dreamed that the little, quiet, muddy current of self-will,
which ran without noise or indecorum under the whole
structure of her being, might be found, in a future day, to
48 DEED
have undermined all her hopes of heaven. Of course,
Mrs. Nesbit regarded Nina and all other lively young
people with a kind of melancholy endurance as shocking
spectacles of worldliness. There was but little sympathy,
to be sure, between the dashing and outspoken and almost
defiant little Nina and the sombre, silver-gray apparition
which glided quietly about the wide halls of Nina s pa
ternal mansion. In fact, it seemed to afford the latter a
mischievous pleasure to shock her respectable relative on all
convenient occasions. Mrs. Nesbit felt it occasionally her
duty, as she remarked, to call her lively niece into her
apartment, and endeavor to persuade her to read some such
volume as Law s Serious Call, or Owen on the One Hun
dred and Nineteenth Psalm; and to give her a general and
solemn warning against all the vanities of the world, in
which were generally included dressing in any color but
black and drab, dancing, flirting, writing love-letters, and
all other enormities, down to the eating of peanut candy.
One of these scenes is just now enacting in this good lady s
apartment, upon which we will raise the curtain.
Mrs. Nesbit, a diminutive, blue-eyed, fair-complexioned
little woman, of some five feet high, sat gently swaying in
that respectable asylum for American old age, commonly
called a rocking-chair. Every rustle of her silvery silk
gown, every fold of the snowy kerchief on her neck, every
plait of her immaculate cap, spoke a soul long retired from
this world and its cares. The bed, arranged with extrem-
est precision, however, was covered with a melange of
French finery, flounces, laces, among which Nina kept up
a continual agitation like that produced by a breeze in a
flower-bed, as she unfolded, turned, and fluttered them,
before the eyes of her relative.
"I have been through all this, Nina," said the latter,
with a melancholy shake of her head, "and I know the
vanity of it."
THE GORDON FAMILY 49
"Well, aunty, I haven t been through it, so / don t
know. "
"Yes, my dear, when I was of your age, I used to go to
balls and parties, and could think of nothing but of dress
and admiration. I have been through it all, and seen the
vanity of it."
"Well, aunt, I want to go through it, and see the van
ity of it, too. That s just what I m after. I m on the
way to be as sombre and solemn as you are, but I m bound
to have a good time first. Now, look at this pink bro
cade ! "
Had the brocade been a pall, it could scarcely have been
regarded with a more lugubrious aspect.
"Ah, child! such a dying world as this! To spend so
much time and thought on dress ! "
"Why, Aunt Nesbit, yesterday you spent just two
whole hours in thinking whether you should turn the
breadths of your black silk dress upside down, or down
side up; and this was a dying world all the time. Now,
I don t see that it is any better to think of black silk than
it is of pink."
This was a view of the subject which seemed never to
have occurred to the good lady.
" But now, aunt, do cheer up, and look at this box of
artificial flowers. You know I thought I d bring a stock
on from New York. Now, aren t these perfectly lovely?
I like flowers that mean something. Now, these are all
imitations of natural flowers, so perfect that you d scarcely
know them from the real. See there, that s a moss-
rose; and now look at these sweet peas, you d think they
had just been picked; and there that heliotrope, and
these jessamines, and those orange-blossoms, and that wax
camellia "
" Turn off my eyes from beholding vanity ! " said Mrs.
Nesbit, shutting her eyes, and shaking her head :
50 DRED
" What if we wear the richest vest,
Peacocks and flies are better drest;
This flesh, with all its glorious forms,
Must drop to earth, and feed the worms. "
"Aunt, I do think you have the most horrid, disgusting
set of hymns, all about worms, and dust, and such things ! "
"It s my duty, child, when I see you so much taken up
with such sinful finery."
"Why, aunt, do you think artificial flowers are sinful?"
"Yes, dear; they are a sinful waste of time and money,
and take off our mind from more important things."
"Well, aunt, then what did the Lord make sweet peas
and roses and orange-blossoms for? I m sure it s only
doing as he does, to make flowers. He don t make every
thing gray, or stone- color. Now, if you only would come
out in the garden, this morning, and see the oleanders, and
the crape myrtle, and the pinks, the roses, and the tulips,
and the hyacinths, I m sure it would do you good."
"Oh, I should certainly catch cold, child, if I went out
doors. Milly left a crack opened in the window, last
night, and I ve sneezed three or four times since. It will
never do for me to go out in the garden; the feeling of
the ground striking up through my shoes is very un
healthy."
"Well, at any rate, aunt, I should think if the Lord
didn t wish us to wear roses and jessamines, he would not
have made them. And it is the most natural thing in the
world to want to wear flowers."
"It only feeds vanity and a love of display, my dear."
"I don t think it s vanity or a love of display. I
should want to dress prettily if I were the only person in
the world. I love pretty things because they are pretty.
I like to wear them because they make me look pretty."
"There it is, child; you want to dress up your poor
perishing body to look pretty that s the thing! "
"To be sure I do. Why shouldn t I? I mean to look
as pretty as I can, as long as I live."
THE GORDON FAMILY 51
" You seem to have quite a conceit of your beauty ! "
said Aunt Nesbit.
"Well, I know I am pretty. I m not going to pretend
I don t. I like my own looks, now, that s a fact. I m
not like one of your Greek statues, I know. I m not
wonderfully handsome, nor likely to set the world on fire
with my beauty. I m just a pretty little thing; and I
like flowers and laces, and all of those things; and I mean
to like them, and I don t think there 11 be a bit of religion
in my not liking them; and as for all that disagreeable
stuff about the worms, that you are always telling me, I
don t think it does me a particle of good. And if religion
is going to make me so poky, I shall put it off as long
as I can."
"I used to feel just as you do, dear, but I ve seen the
folly of it! 7
"If I ve got to lose my love for everything that is
bright, everything that is lively, and everything that is
pretty, and like to read such horrid stupid books, why,
I d rather be buried, and done with it ! "
"That s the opposition of the natural heart, my dear."
The conversation was here interrupted by the entrance
of a bright, curly-headed mulatto boy, bearing Mrs. Nes
bit s daily luncheon.
"Oh, here comes Tomtit," said Nina; "now for a scene.
Let s see what he has forgotten, now."
Tomtit was, in his way, a great character in the man
sion. He and his grandmother were the property of Mrs.
Nesbit. His true name was no less respectable and me
thodical than that of Thomas; but as he was one of those
restless and effervescent sprites who seem to be born for
the confusion of quiet people, Nina had rechristened him
Tomtit, which sobriquet was immediately recognized by
the whole household as being eminently descriptive and
appropriate. A constant ripple and eddy of drollery
52 DEED
seemed to pervade his whole being; his large, saucy black
eyes had always a laughing fire in them, that it was im
possible to meet without a smile in return. Slave and
property though he was, yet the first sentiment of rever
ence for any created thing seemed yet wholly unawakened
in his curly pate. Breezy, idle, careless, flighty, as his
woodland namesake, life to him seemed only a repressed
and pent-up ebullition of animal enjoyment; and almost
the only excitement of Mrs. Nesbit s quiet life was her
chronic controversy with Tomtit. Forty or fifty times a
day did the old body assure him "that she was astonished
at his conduct; 7 and as many times would he reply by
showing the whole set of his handsome teeth, on the broad
grin, wholly inconsiderate of the state of despair into which
he thus reduced her.
On the present occasion, as he entered the room, his eye
was caught by the great display of finery on the bed; and
hastily dumping the waiter on the first chair that occurred,
with a flirt and a spring as lithe as that of a squirrel, he
was seated in a moment astride the foot- board, indulging
in a burst of merriment.
"Good law, Miss Nina, whar on earth dese yer come
from? Good law, some on em for me, isn t er?"
" You see that child ! " now said Mrs. Nesbit, rocking
back in her chair with the air of a martyr. "After all my
talkings to him! Nina, you ought not to allow that; it
just encourages him ! "
"Tom, get down, you naughty creature, you, and get
the stand and put the waiter on it. Mind yourself, now ! "
said Nina, laughing.
Tomtit cut a somerset from the foot- board to the floor,
and striking up, on a very high key, "I 11 bet my money
on a bobtail nag," he danced out a small table, as if it had
been a partner, and deposited it, with a jerk, at the side
of Mrs. Nesbit, who aimed a cuff at his ears; but as he
THE GORDON FAMILY 53
adroitly ducked his head, the intended blow came down
upon the table with more force than was comfortable to
the inflictor.
" I believe that child is made of air ! I never can hit
him!" said the good lady, waxing red in the face. "He
is enough to provoke a saint ! "
"So he is, aunt; enough to provoke two saints like you
and me. Tomtit, you rogue, " said she, giving a gentle pull
to a handful of his curly hair, "be good, now, and I 11 show
you the pretty things by and by. Come, put the waiter
on the table, now; see if you can t walk, for once! "
Casting down his eyes with an irresistible look of mock
solemnity, Tomtit marched with the waiter, and placed it
by his mistress.
The good lady, after drawing off her gloves and making
sundry little decorous preparations, said a short grace over
her meal, during which time Tomtit seemed to be holding
his sides with repressed merriment; then gravely laying
hold of the handle of the teapot, she stopped short, gave an
exclamation, and flirted her fingers, as she felt it almost
scalding hot.
"Tomtit, I do believe you intend to burn me to death,
some day ! "
"Laws, missus, dat are hot? Oh, sure I was tickler to
set the nose round to the fire."
"No, you didn t! You stuck the handle right into the
fire, as you re always doing! "
"Laws, now, wonder if I did," said Tomtit, assuming
an abstracted appearance. " Pears as if never can mem
ber which dem dare is nose, and which handle. Now,
I s a-studdin on dat dare most all de morning was so,"
said he, gathering confidence, as he saw, by Nina s dancing
eyes, how greatly she was amused.
"You need a sound whipping, sir that s what you
need ! " said Mrs. Nesbit, kindling up in sudden wrath.
54 DEED
"Oh, I knows it," said Tomtit. "We s unprofitable
servants, all on us. Lord s marcy that we ain t sumed,
all on us ! "
, Nina was so completely overcome by this novel applica
tion of the text which she had heard her aunt laboriously
drumming into Tomtit, the Sabbath before, that she
laughed aloud, with rather uproarious merriment.
"Oh, aunt, there s no use! He don t know anything!
He s nothing but an incarnate joke, a walking hoax! "
"No, I does n t know nothing, Miss Mna," said Tomtit,
at the same time looking out from under his long eyelashes.
"Don t know nothing at all never can."
"Well, now, Tomtit," said Mrs. Nesbit, drawing out
a little blue cowhide from under her chair, and looking at
him resolutely, "you see, if this teapot handle is hot again,
I 11 give it to you ! Do you hear? "
"Yes, missis," said Tomtit, with that indescribable sing
song of indifference which is so common and so provoking
in his class.
"And now, Tomtit, you go downstairs and clean the
knives for dinner."
"Yes, missis," said he, pirouetting towards the door.
And once in the passage, he struck up a vigorous "Oh,
I m going to glory, won t you go along with me; " accom
panying himself, by slapping his own sides, as he went
down two stairs at a time.
"Going to glory!" said Mrs. Nesbit, rather shortly;
"he looks like it, I think! It s the third or fourth time
that that child has blistered my fingers with this teapot,
and I know he does it on purpose ! So ungrateful, when
I spend my time, teaching him, hour after hour, laboring
with him so! I declare, I don t believe these children
have got any souls ! "
"Well, aunt, I declare, I should think you d get out of
all patience with him; yet he s so funny, I cannot, for
the life of me, help laughing."
THE GORDON FAMILY 55
Here a distant whoop on the staircase, and a tempestu
ous chorus to a Methodist hymn, with the words, "Oh
come, my loving brethren," announced that Tomtit was on
the return; and very soon, throwing open the door, he
marched in, with an air of the greatest importance.
"Tomtit, didn t I tell you to go and clean the knives? "
"Law, missis, come up here to bring Miss Nina s love-
letters," said he, producing two or three letters. "Good
law, though," said he, checking himself, "forgot to put
them on a waity ! " and before a word could be said, he
was out of the room and downstairs, and at the height of
furious contest with the girl who was cleaning the silver,
for a waiter to put Miss Nina s letters on.
"Dar, Miss Nina," appealing to her when she appeared,
"Rosa won t let me have no waity! "
" I could pull your hair for you, you little image ! " said
Nina, seizing the letters from his hands, and laughing
while she cuffed his ears.
"Well," said Tomtit, looking after her with great solem
nity, "missis in de right on t. Ain t no kind of order in
this here house, pite of all I can do. One says put letters
on waity. Another one won t let you have waity to put
letters on. And, finally, Miss Nina, she pull them all away.
Just the way things going on in dis yer house, all the time !
I can t help it; done all I can. Just the way missus says ! "
There was one member of Nina s establishment of a
character so marked that we cannot refrain from giving her
a separate place in our picture of her surroundings, and
this was Milly, the waiting-woman of Aunt Nesbit.
Aunt Milly, as she was commonly called, was a tall,
broad-shouldered, deep-chested African woman, with a
fullness of figure approaching to corpulence. Her habit of
standing and of motion was peculiar and majestic, remind
ing one of the Scripture expression "upright as the palm-
tree." Her skin was of a peculiar blackness and softness,
56 DEED
not unlike black velvet. Her eyes were large, full, and
dark, and had about them that expression of wishfulness
and longing which one may sometimes have remarked in
dark eyes. Her mouth was large, and the lips, though
partaking of the African fullness, had, nevertheless, some
thing decided and energetic in their outline, which was
still further seconded by the heavy moulding of the chin.
A frank smile, which was common with her, disclosed a
row of most splendid and perfect teeth. Her hair, without
approaching to the character of the Anglo-Saxon, was still
different from the ordinary woolly coat of the negro, and
seemed more like an infinite number of close-knotted curls,
of brilliant, glossy blackness.
The parents of Milly were prisoners taken in African
wars; and she was a fine specimen of one of those warlike
and splendid races, of whom, as they have seldom been
reduced to slavery, there are but few and rare specimens
among the slaves of the South. Her usual head-dress was
a high turban, of those brilliant colored Madras handker
chiefs in which the instinctive taste of the dark races leads
them to delight. Milly s was always put on and worn
with a regal air, as if it were the coronet of the queen.
For the rest, her dress consisted of a well-fitted gown of
dark stuff, of a quality somewhat finer than the usual
household apparel. A neatly starched white muslin hand
kerchief folded across her bosom, and a clean white apron,
completed her usual costume. No one could regard her,
as a whole, and not feel their prejudice in favor of the
exclusive comeliness of white races somewhat shaken.
Placed among the gorgeous surroundings of African land
scape and scenery, it might be doubted whether any one s
taste could have desired, as a completion to her appearance,
to have blanched the glossy skin whose depth of coloring
harmonizes so well with the intense and fiery glories of a
tropical landscape.
THE GORDON FAMILY 57
In character Milly was worthy of her remarkable exter
nal appearance. Heaven had endowed her with a soul
as broad and generous as her ample frame. Her passions
rolled and burned in her bosom with a tropical fervor; a
shrewd and abundant mother wit, united with a vein of
occasional drollery, gave to her habits of speech a quaint
vivacity.
A native adroitness gave an unwonted command over all
the functions of her fine body, so that she was endowed
with that much-coveted property which the New Englander
denominates "faculty," which means the intuitive ability
to seize at once on the right and best way of doing every
thing which is to be done. At the same time, she was
possessed of that high degree of self-respect which led her
to be incorruptibly faithful and thorough in all she under
took; less, as it often seemed, from any fealty or deference
to those whom she served, than from a kind of native pride
in well-doing, which led her to deem it beneath herself to
slight or pass over the least thing which she had under
taken. Her promises were inviolable. Her owners always
knew that what she once said would be done, if it were
within the bounds of possibility.
The value of an individual thus endowed in person and
character may be easily conceived by those who understand
how rare, either among slaves or freemen, is such a combi
nation. Milly was, therefore, always considered in the
family as a most valuable piece of property, and treated
with more than common consideration.
As a mind, even when uncultivated, will ever find its
level, it often happened that Milly s amount of being and
force of character gave her ascendency even over those who
were nominally her superiors. As her ways were com
monly found to be the best ways, she was left, in most
cases, to pursue them without opposition or control. But
favorite as she was, her life had been one of deep sorrows.
58 DRED
She had been suffered, it is true, to contract a marriage
with a very finely endowed mulatto man, on a plantation
adjoining her owner s, by whom she had a numerous fam
ily of children, who inherited all her fine physical and
mental endowments. With more than usual sensibility
and power of reflection, the idea that the children so dear
to her were from their birth not her own that they were,
from the first hour of their existence, merchantable arti
cles, having a fixed market value in proportion to every
excellence, and liable to all the reverses of merchantable
goods sank with deep weight into her mind. Unfortu
nately, the family to which she belonged being reduced to
poverty, there remained, often, no other means of making
up the deficiency of income than the annual sale of one or
two negroes. Milly s children, from their fine develop
ments, were much-coveted articles. Their owner was often
tempted by extravagant offers for them; and therefore, to
meet one crisis or another of family difficulties, they had
been successively sold from her. At first, she had met
this doom with almost the ferocity of a lioness; but the
blow, oftentimes repeated, had brought with it a dull endur
ance, and Christianity had entered, as it often does with
the slave, through the rents and fissures of a broken heart.
Those instances of piety which are sometimes, though
rarely, found among slaves, and which transcend the ordi
nary development of the best instructed, are generally the
results of calamities and afflictions so utterly desolating as
to force the soul to depend on God alone. But where one
soul is thus raised to higher piety, thousands are crushed
in hopeless imbecility.
CHAPTER V
HARRY AND HIS WIFE
SEVERAL miles from the Gordon estate, on an old and
somewhat decayed plantation, stood a neat log cabin, whose
external aspect showed both taste and care. It was almost
enveloped in luxuriant wreaths of yellow jessamine, and
garlanded with a magnificent lamarque rose, whose cream-
colored buds and flowers contrasted beautifully with the
dark, polished green of the finely cut leaves. The house
stood in an inclosure formed by a high hedge of the Ameri
can holly, whose evergreen foliage and scarlet berries made
it, at all times of the year, a beautiful object. Within
the inclosure was a garden, carefully tended, and devoted
to the finest fruits and flowers.
This little dwelling, so different in its air of fanciful
neatness from ordinary southern cabins, was the abode of
Harry s little wife. Lisette, which was her name, was
the slave of a French Creole woman, to whom a plantation
had recently fallen by inheritance. She was a delicate,
airy little creature, formed by a mixture of the African
and French blood, producing one of those fanciful, exotic
combinations that give one the same impression of bril
liancy and richness that one receives from tropical insects
and flowers. From both parent races she was endowed
with a sensuous being exquisitely quick and fine, a
nature of everlasting childhood, with all its freshness of
present life, all its thoughtless, unreasoning fearlessness of
the future.
She stands there at her ironing-table, just outside her
60 DEED
cottage door, singing gayly at her work. Her round,
plump, childish form is shown to advantage by the trim
blue basque, laced in front, over a chemisette of white
linen. Her head is wreathed with a gay turban, from
which escapes, now and then, a wandering curl of her silky
black hair. Her eyes, as she raises them, have the hazy,
dreamy languor which is so characteristic of the mixed
races. Her little, childish hands are busy, with nimble
ringers adroitly plaiting and arranging various articles of
feminine toilet, too delicate and expensive to have belonged
to those in humble circumstances. She ironed, plaited,
and sung, with busy care. Occasionally, however, she
would suspend her work, and running between the flower
borders to the hedge, look wistfully along the road, shad
ing her eyes with her hand. At last, as she saw a man on
horseback approaching, she flew lightly out, and ran to
meet him.
"Harry, Harry! You ve come, at last. I m so glad!
And what have you got in that paper 1 Is it anything for
me?"
He held it up, and shook it at her, while she leaped
after it.
"No, no, little curiosity!" he said gayly.
"I know it s something for me," said she, with a pretty,
half-pouting air.
"And why do you know it s for you? Is everything
to be for you in the world, you little good-for-nothing ? "
"Good-for-nothing!" with a toss of the gayly turbaned
little head. "You may well say that, sir! Just look at
the two dozen shirts I ve ironed, since morning! Come,
now, take me up; I want to ride."
Harry put out the toe of his boot and his hand, and
with an adroit spring, she was in a moment before him, on
his horse s neck, and with a quick turn, snatched the
paper parcel from his hand.
HARRY AND HIS WIFE 61
"Woman s curiosity !" said he.
" Well, I want to see what it is. Dear me, what a tight
string! Oh, I can t break it! Well, here it goes; I ll
tear a hole in it, anyhow. Oh, silk, as I live! Aha!
tell me now this isn t for me, you bad thing, you! "
"Why, how do you know it isn t to make me a summer
coat?"
"Summer coat! likely story! Aha! I ve found you
out, mister! But, come, do make the horse canter! I
want to go fast. Make him canter, do ! "
Harry gave a sudden jerk to the reins, and in a minute
the two were flying off as if on the wings of the wind. On
and on they went, through a small coppice of pines, while
the light-hearted laugh rang on the breeze behind them.
Now they are lost to view. In a few minutes, emerging
from the pine woods in another direction, they come sweep
ing, gay and laughing, up to the gate. To fasten the horse,
to snatch the little wife on his shoulder, and run into the
cottage with her, seemed the work only of a moment; and
as he set her down, still laughing, he exclaimed,
"There, go, now, for a pretty little picture, as you are!
I have helped them get up les tableaux vivans, at their great
houses; but you are my tableau. You aren t good for
much. You are nothing but a humming-bird, made to live
on honey ! "
"That s what I am! " said the little one. "It takes a
great deal of honey to keep me. I want to be praised,
nattered, and loved, all the time. It is n t enough to have
you love me. I want to hear you tell me so every day,
and hour, and minute. And I want you always to admire
me, and praise everything that I do. Now "
"Particularly when you tear holes in packages!" said
Harry.
"Oh, my silk my new silk dress!" said Lisette, thus
reminded of the package which she held in her hand.
62 DEED
"This hateful string! How it cuts my fingers! I will
break it! I ll bite it in two. Harry, Harry, don t you
see how it hurts my fingers? Why don t you cut it? "
And the little sprite danced about the cottage floor,
tearing the paper, and tugging at the string, like an en
raged humming-bird. Harry came laughing behind her,
and taking hold of her two hands, held them quite still,
while he cut the string of the parcel, and unfolded a gor
geous plaid silk, crimson, green, and orange.
"There, now, what do you think of that? Miss Nina
brought it, when she came home, last week."
"Oh, how lovely! Isn t she a beauty? Isn t she
good? How beautiful it is! Dear me, dear me! how
happy I am ! How happy we are ! ain t we, Harry ? "
A shadow came over Harry s forehead as he answered,
with a half -sigh,
"Yes."
"I was up at three o clock this morning, on purpose to
get all my ironing done to-day, because I thought you
were to come home to-night. Ah! ah! you don t know
what a supper I ve got ready! You ll see, by and by.
I m going to do something uncommon. You mustn t look
in that other room, Harry you mustn t! "
"Mustn t I?" said Harry, getting up, and going to the
door.
"There, now! who s curiosity now, I wonder!" said
she, springing nimbly between him and the door. "No,
you sha n t go in, though. There, now; don t, don t!
Be good now, Harry ! "
"Well, I may as well give up first as last. This is
your house, not mine, I suppose," said Harry.
"Mr. Submission, how meek we are, all of a sudden.
Well, while the fit lasts, you go to the spring and get me
some water to fill this teakettle. Off with you now, this
minute! Mind you don t stop to play by the way! "
HAREY AND HIS WIFE 63
And while Harry is gone to the spring we will follow
the wife into the forbidden room. Very cool and pleasant
it is, with its white window-curtains, its matted floor, and
displaying in the corner that draped feather bed, with its
ruffled pillows and fringed curtains, which it is the great
ambition of the southern cabin to attain and maintain.
The door, which opened on to a show of most brilliant
flowers, was overlaid completely by the lamarque rose we
have before referred to; and large clusters of its creamy
blossoms, and wreaths of its dark green leaves, had been
enticed in and tied to sundry nails and pegs by the small
hands of the little mistress, to form an arch of flowers and
roses. A little table stood in the door, draped with a
spotless damask table - cloth, fine enough for the use of
a princess, and only produced by the little mistress on
festive occasions. On it were arranged dishes curiously
trimmed with moss and vine leaves, which displayed straw
berries and peaches, with a pitcher of cream and one of
whey, small dishes of curd, delicate cakes and biscuit, and
fresh golden butter.
After patting and arranging the table-cloth, Lisette
tripped gayly around, and altered here and there the
arrangement of a dish, occasionally stepping back, and
cocking her little head on one side, much like a bird, sing
ing gayly as she did so ; then she would pick a bit of moss
from this, and a flower from that, and retreat again, and
watch the effect.
"How surprised he will be! " she said to herself. Still
humming a tune in a low, gurgling undertone, she danced
hither and thither, round the apartment. First she gave
the curtains a little shake, and unlooping one of them,
looped it up again, so as to throw the beams of the even
ing sun on the table.
" There, there, there ! how pretty the light falls through
those nasturtions! I wonder if the room smells of the
64 DEED
mignonette. I gathered it when the dew was on it, and
they say that will make it smell all day. Now, here s
Harry s bookcase. Dear me! these flies! How they do
get on to everything ! Shoo, shoo ! now, now ! " and
catching a gay bandana handkerchief from the drawer, she
perfectly exhausted herself in flying about the room in
pursuit of the buzzing intruders, who soared and dived
and careered, after the manner of flies in general, seeming
determined to go anywhere but out of the door, and finally
were seen brushing their wings and licking their feet, with
great alertness, on the very topmost height of the sacred
bed-curtains; and as just this moment a glimpse was caught
of Harry returning from the spring, Lisette was obliged to
abandon the chase, and rush into the other room, to pre
vent a premature development of her little tea tableau.
Then a small pug-nosed, black teakettle came on to the
stage of action, from some unknown cupboard; and Harry
had to fill it with water, and of course spilt the water on
to the ironing-table, which made another little breezy,
chattering commotion; and then the flat-irons were cleared
away, and the pug-nosed kettle reigned in their stead on
the charcoal brazier.
"Now, Harry, was ever such a smart wife as I am?
Only think, besides all the rest that I ve done, I ve ironed
your white linen suit, complete! Now, go put it on.
Not in there ! not in there ! " she said, pushing him away
from the door. "You can t go there, yet. You ll do
well enough out here."
And away she went, singing through the garden walks;
and the song, floating back behind her, seemed like an odor
brushed from the flowers. The refrain came rippling in
at the door
" Me think not what to-morrow bring;
Me happy, so me sing! "
"Poor little thing!" said Harry to himself; "why
should I try to teach her anything ? "
HARRY AND HIS WIFE 65
In a few minutes she was back again, her white apron
thrown over her arm, and blossoms of yellow jessamine,
spikes of blue lavender, and buds of moss-roses peeping
out from it. She skipped gayly along, and deposited her
treasure on the ironing- table ; then, with a zealous, bus
tling earnestness, which characterized everything she did,
she began sorting them into two bouquets, alternately talk
ing and singing, as she did so,
" Come on, ye rosy hours,
All joy and gladness bring !
"You see, Harry, you re going to have a bouquet to
put into the buttonhole of that coat. It will make you
look so handsome ! There, now there, now,
We 11 strew the way with flowers,
And merrily, merrily sing. "
Suddenly stopping, she looked at him archly, and said,
"You can t tell, now, what I m doing all this for! "
"There s never any telling what you women do any
thing for."
"Do hear him talk so pompous! Well, sir, it s for
your birthday, now. Aha! you thought, because I can t
keep the day of the month, that I did n t know anything
about it; but I did. And I have put down now a chalk-
mark every day, for four weeks, right under where I keep
my ironing- account, so as to be sure of it. And I ve been
busy about it ever since two o clock this morning. And
now there, the teakettle is boiling ! " and away she
flew to the door.
"Oh, dear me! dear me, now! I ve killed myself
now, I have ! " she cried, holding up one of her hands,
and flirting it up in the air. "Dear me! who knew it
was so hot ? "
"I should think a little woman that is so used to the
holder might have known it," said Harry, as he caressed
the little burnt hand.
VOL. I.
66 DEED
"Come, now, let me carry it for you," said Harry, "and
I 11 make the tea, if you 11 let me go into that mysterious
room. "
"Indeed, no, Harry I m going to do everything my
self ; " and forgetting the burnt finger, Lisette was off in
a moment, and back in a moment with a shining teapot in
her hand, and the tea was made. And at last the myste
rious door opened, and Lisette stood with her eyes fixed
upon Harry, to watch the effect.
"Superb! magnificent! splendid! Why, this is
good enough for a king ! And where did you get all these
things ? " said Harry.
"Oh, out of our garden all but the peaches. Those
old Mist gave me they come from Florida. There, now,
you laughed at me, last summer, when I set those straw
berry vines, and made all sorts of fun of me. And what
do you think now ? "
"Think! I think you re a wonderful little thing a
perfect witch."
"Come, now, let s sit down, then you there, and I
here." And opening the door of the bird-cage, which
hung in the lamarque rose-bush, "Little Button shall
come, too."
Button, a bright yellow canary, with a smart black tuft
upon his head, seemed to understand his part in the little
domestic scene perfectly; for he stepped obediently upon
the finger which was extended to him, and was soon sitting
quite at his ease on the mossy edge of one of the dishes,
pecking at the strawberries.
"And now, do tell me," said Lisette, "all about Miss
Nina. How does she look 1 "
"Pretty and smart as ever," said Harry. "Just the
same witchy, willful ways with her."
"And did she show you her dresses? "
"Oh yes; the whole."
HARRY AND HIS WIFE 67
" Oh, do tell me about them, Harry do ! "
"Well, there s a lovely pink gauze, covered with span
gles, to be worn over white satin."
" With flounces 1 " said Lisette earnestly.
"With flounces. 7
" How many 1 "
"Really, I don t remember."
"Don t remember how many flounces? Why, Harry,
how stupid! Say, Harry, don t you suppose she will let
me come and look at her things ? "
"Oh yes, dear, I don t doubt she will; and that will
save my making a gazette of myself."
" Oh, when will you take me there, Harry ? "
"Perhaps to-morrow, dear. And now," said Harry,
"that you have accomplished your surprise upon me, I
have a surprise, in return, for you. You can t guess, now,
what Miss Nina brought for me."
"No, indeed! What?" said Lisette, springing up;
"do tell me quick."
" Patience patience ! " said Harry, deliberately fum
bling in his pocket, amusing himself with her excited air.
But who should speak the astonishment and rapture which
widened Lisette s dark eyes when the watch was pro
duced? She clapped her hands, and danced for joy, to
the imminent risk of upsetting the table, and all the things
on it.
" I do think we are the most fortunate people you
and I, Harry! Everything goes just as we want it to
doesn t it, now? "
Harry s assent to this comprehensive proposition was
much less fervent than suited his little wife.
"Now, what s the matter with you? What goes
wrong? Why don t you rejoice as I do?" said she, com
ing and seating herself down upon his knee. "Come,
now, you ve been working too hard, I know. I m going
68 DEED
to sing to you, now; you want something to cheer you
up." And Lisette took down her banjo, and sat down in
the doorway under the arch of lamarque roses, and began
thrumming gayly.
"This is the nicest little thing, this banjo!" she said;
"I wouldn t change it for all the guitars in the world.
Now, Harry, I m going to sing something specially for
you. " And Lisette sung :
" What are the joys of white man, here,
What are his pleasures, say ?
He great, he proud, he haughty fine
While I my banjo play:
He sleep all day, he wake all night;
He full of care, his heart no light;
He great deal want, he little get ;
He sorry, so he fret.
" Me envy not the white man here,
Though he so proud and gay ;
He great, he proud, he haughty fine,
While I my banjo play:
Me work all day, me sleep all night;
Me have no care, me heart is light ;
Me think not what to-morrow bring ;
Me happy, so me sing. "
Lisette rattled the strings of the banjo, and sang with
such a hearty abandon of enjoyment that it was a comfort
to look at her. One would have thought that a bird s soul
put into a woman s body would have sung just so.
"There," she said, throwing down her banjo, and seat
ing herself on her husband s knee, "do you know, I think
you are like white man in the song? I should like to
know what is the matter with you. I can see plain enough
when you are not happy; but I don t see why."
"Oh, Lisette, I have very perplexing business to man
age," said Harry. "Miss Nina is a dear, good little
mistress, but she doesn t know anything about accounts,
or money ; and here she has brought me home a set of bills
to settle, and I m sure I don t know where the money is
HAERY AND HIS WIFE 69
to be got from. It s hard work to make the old place
profitable in our days. The ground is pretty much worked
up; it doesn t bear the crops it used to. And then, our
people are so childish, they don t, a soul of them, care
how much they spend, or how carelessly they work. It s
very expensive keeping up such an establishment. You
know the Gordons must be Gordons. Things can t be
done now as some other families would do them; and
then, those bills which Miss Nina brings from New York
are perfectly frightful."
" Well, Harry, what are you going to do ? " said Lisette,
nestling down close on his shoulder. "You always know
how to do something."
"Why, Lisette, I shall have to do what I ve done two
or three times before take the money that I have saved,
to pay these bills our freedom money, Lisette. "
"Oh, well, then, don t worry. We can get it again,
you know. Why, you know, Harry, you can make a good
deal with your trade, and one thing and another that you
do; and then, as for me, why, you know, my ironing,
and my muslins, how celebrated they are. Come, don t
worry one bit; we shall get on nicely."
" Ah ! But, Lisette, all this pretty house of ours, gar
den, and everything, is only built on air, after all, till we
are free. Any accident can take it from us. Now, there s
Miss Nina; she is engaged, she tells me, to two or three
lovers, as usual."
" Engaged, is she 1 " said Lisette eagerly, female curi
osity getting the better of every other consideration; "she
always did have lovers, just, you know, as I used to."
"Yes; but, Lisette, she will marry, some time, and
what a thing that would be for you and me ! On her hus
band will depend all my happiness for all my life. He
may set her against me ; he may not like me. Oh, Lisette !
I ve seen trouble enough coming of marriages; and I was
70 DEED
hoping, you see, that before that time came the money for
my freedom would all be paid in, and I should be my
own man. But now, here it is. Just as the sum is
almost made up, I must pay out five hundred dollars of it,
and that throws us back two or three years longer. And
what makes me feel the most anxious is, that I in pretty
sure Miss Nina will marry one of these lovers before long. "
"Why, what makes you think so, Harry? "
"Oh, I ve seen girls before now, Lisette, and I know
the signs."
" What does she do ? What does she say 1 Tell me,
now, Harry."
"Oh, well, she runs on abusing the man, after her sort;
and she s so very earnest and positive in telling me she
don t like him."
"Just the way I used to do about you, Harry, is n t it ? "
"Besides," said Harry, "I know, by the kind of charac
ter she gives of him, that she thinks of him very differ
ently from what she ever did of any man before. Miss
Nina little knows, when she is rattling about her beaux,
what I m thinking of. I m saying, all the while, to
myself, * Is that man going to be my master 1 and this
Clayton, I m very sure, is going to be my master."
"Well, isn t he a good man? "
"She says he is; but there s never any saying what
good men will do, never. Good men think it right some
times to do the strangest things. This man may alter the
whole agreement between us, he will have a right to do
it, if he is her husband; he may refuse to let me buy
myself; and then, all the money that I ve paid will go
for nothing."
"But, certainly, Harry, Miss Nina will never consent
to such a thing."
"Lisette, Miss Nina is one thing, but Mrs. Clayton may
be quite another thing. I ve seen all that, over and over
HARRY AND HIS WIFE 71
again. I tell you, Lisette, that we who live on other
people s looks and words, we watch and think a great deal!
Ah ! we come to be very sharp, I can tell you. The more
Miss Nina has liked me, the less her husband may like
me; don t you know that? "
"No; Harry, you don t dislike people I like."
"Child, child, that s quite another thing."
"Well, then, Harry, if you feel so bad about it, what
makes you pay this money for Miss Nina? She don t
know anything about it; she don t ask you to. I don t
believe she would want you to, if she did know it. Just
go and pay it in, and have your freedom papers made out.
Why don t you tell her all about it? "
"No, I can t, Lisette. I ve had the care of her all her
life, and I ve made it as smooth as I could for her, and I
won t begin to trouble, her now. Do you know, too, that
I m afraid that, perhaps, if she knew all about it, she
wouldn t do the right thing. There s never any know
ing, Lisette. Now, you see, I say to myself, Poor little
thing! she doesn t know anything about accounts, and she
don t know how I feel. But if I should tell her, and
she shouldn t care, and act as I ve seen women act, why,
then, you know I couldn t think so any more. I don t
believe she would mind you; but then, I don t like to try."
" Harry, what does make you love her so much ? "
"Don t you know, Lisette, that Master Tom was a
dreadful bad boy, always willful and wayward, almost
broke his father s heart; and he was always ugly and con
trary to her? I m sure I don t know why; for she was
a sweet little thing, and she loves him now, ugly as he is,
and he is the most selfish creature I ever saw. And as
for Miss Nina, she isn t selfish she is only inconsider
ate. But I ve known her do for him, over and over,
just what I do for her, giving him her money and her
jewels to help him out of a scrape. But then, to be sure,
72 DRED
it all comes upon me, at last, which makes it all the more
aggravating. Now, Lisette, I m going to tell you some
thing, but you mustn t tell anybody. Nina Gordon is my
sister ! "
"Harry!"
"Yes, Lisette, you may well open your eyes," said
Harry, rising involuntarily; "1 m Colonel Gordon s oldest
son ! Let me have the comfort of saying it once, if I
never do again."
"Harry, who told you? "
"He told me, Lisette he, himself, told me, when he
was dying, and charged me always to watch over her; and
I have done it! I never told Miss Nina; I wouldn t have
her told for the world. It wouldn t make her love me;
more likely it would turn her against me. I ve seen many
a man sold for nothing else but looking too much like his
father, or his brothers and sisters. I was given to her,
and my sister and my mother went out to Mississippi with
Miss Nina s aunt."
"I never heard you speak of this sister, Harry. Was
she pretty 1 "
"Lisette, she was beautiful, she was graceful, and she
had real genius. I ve heard many singers on the stage
that could not sing, with all their learning, as she did by
nature. "
"Well, what became of her? "
"Oh, what becomes of such women always, among us!
Nursed, and petted, and caressed; taught everything ele
gant, nothing solid. Why, the woman meant well enough
that had the care of her, Mrs. Stewart, Colonel Gordon s
sister, but she couldn t prevent her son s wanting her,
and taking her, for his mistress; and when she died there
she was."
"Well."
"When George Stewart had lived with her two or three
HARRY AND HIS WIFE 73
years, he was taken with smallpox. You know what per-
feet horror that always creates. None of his white acquaint
ances and friends would come near his plantation; the
negroes were all frightened to death, as usual; overseer
ran off. Well, then Cora Gordon s blood came up; she
nursed him all through that sickness. What s more, she
had influence to keep order on the place; got the people to
getting the cotton crops themselves, so that when the over
seer came sneaking back, things hadn t all gone to ruin,
as they might have done. Well, the young fellow had
more in him than some of them do; for when he got well
he left his plantation, took her up to Ohio, and married
her, and lived with her there."
"Why didn t he live with her on his plantation? " said
Lisette.
"He couldn t have freed her there; it s against the
laws. But, lately, I ve got a letter from her saying that
he had died and left to her and her son all his property on
the Mississippi."
"Why, she will be rich, won t she? "
"Yes, if she gets it. But there s no knowing how that
will be; there are fifty ways of cheating her out of it, I
suppose. But now, as to Miss Nina s estate, you don t
know how I feel about it. I was trusted with it, and
trusted with her. She never has known, more than a
child, where the money came from, or went to; and it
sha n t be said that I ve brought the estate in debt for the
sake of getting my own liberty. If I have one pride in
life, it is to give it up to Miss Nina s husband in good
order. But then, the trouble of it, Lisette ! The trouble
of getting anything like decent work from these creatures;
the ways that I have to turn and twist to get round them,
and manage them, to get anything done. They hate me;
they are jealous of me. Lisette, I m just like the bat in
the fable; I m neither bird nor beast. How often I ve
74 DEED
wished that I was a good, honest, black nigger, like Uncle
Pomp! Then I should know what I was; but now, I m
neither one thing nor another. I come just near enough
to the condition of the white to look into it, to enjoy it,
and want everything that I see. Then the way I ve
been educated makes it worse. The fact is, that when
the fathers of such as we feel any love for us, it isn t like
the love they have for their white children. They are
half ashamed of us ; they are ashamed to show their love,
if they have it; and then, there s a kind of remorse and
pity about it, which they make up to themselves by petting
us. They load us with presents and indulgences. They
amuse themselves with us while we are children, and play
off all our passions as if we were instruments to be played
on. If we show talent and smartness, we hear some one
say, aside, It s rather a pity, isn t it? or, He is too
smart for his place. Then, we have all the family blood
and the family pride; and what to do with it 1 ? I feel that
I am a Gordon. I feel in my very heart that I m like
Colonel Gordon I know I am, and sometimes, I know I
look like him, and that s one reason why Tom Gordon
always hated me; and then, there s another thing, the
hardest of all, to have a sister like Miss Nina, to feel she
is my sister, and never dare to say a word of it! She
little thinks, when she plays and jokes with me, some
times, how I feel. I have eyes and senses; I can compare
myself with Tom Gordon. I know he never would learn
anything at any of the schools he was put to; and I know
that when his tutors used to teach me, how much faster
I got along than he did. And yet he must have all the
position, and all the respect; and then, Miss Nina so
often says to me, by way of apology, when she puts up
with his ugliness, Ah ! well, you know, Harry, he is the
only brother I have got in the world ! Is n t it too bad ?
Colonel Gordon gave me every advantage of education,
HAKRY AND HIS WIFE 75
because I think he meant me for just this place which I
fill. Miss Nina was his pet. He was wholly absorbed in
her, and he was frightened at Tom s wickedness; and so
he left me bound to the estate in this way, only stipulating
that I should buy myself on favorable terms before Miss
Nina s marriage. She has always been willing enough.
I might have taken any and every advantage of her incon-
siderateness. And Mr. John Gordon has been willing,
too, and has been very kind about it, and has signed an
agreement as guardian, and Miss Nina has signed it too,
that, in case of her death, or whatever happened, I m to
have my freedom on paying a certain sum, and I have got
his receipts for what I have paid. So that s tolerably
safe. Lisette, I had meant never to have been married
till I was a free man; but, somehow, you bewitched me
into it. I did very wrong."
"Oh, pshaw! pshaw!" interrupted Lisette. "I ain t
going to hear another word of this talk! What s the use?
We shall do well enough. Everything will come out right,
you see if it don t, now. I was always lucky, and I
always shall be."
The conversation was here interrupted by a loud whoop
ing, and a clatter of horse s heels.
"What s that?" said Harry, starting to the window.
"As I live, now, if there isn t that wretch of a Tomtit,
going off with that horse ! How came he here 1 He will
ruin him ! Stop there ! hallo ! " he exclaimed, running
out of doors after Tomtit.
Tomtit, however, only gave a triumphant whoop, and
disappeared among the pine-trees.
" Well, I should like to know what sent him here ! "
said Harry, walking up and down, much disturbed.
"Oh, he s only going round through the grove; he will
be back again," said Lisette; "never fear. Isn t he a
handsome little rogue 1 "
76 DEED
"Lisette, you never can see trouble anywhere!" said
Harry, almost angrily.
"Ah! yes I do," said Lisette, "when you speak in that
tone! Please don t, Harry. What should you want me
to see trouble for 1 "
"I don t know, you little thing," said Harry, stroking
her head fondly.
"Ah, there comes the little rascal, just as I knew he
would ! " said Lisette. " He only wanted to take a little
race; he hasn t hurt the horse;" and tripping lightly
out, she caught the reins, just as Tomtit drove up to the
gate; and it seemed but a moment before he was over in
the garden, with his hands full of flowers.
"Stop, there, you young rascal, and tell me what sent
you here ! " said Harry, seizing him, and shaking him by
the shoulder.
"Laws, Massa Harry, I wants to get peaches, like other
folks," said the boy, peeping roguishly in at the window,
at the tea-table.
"And he shall have a peach, too," said Lisette, "and
some flowers, if he 11 be a good boy, and not tread on my
borders. "
Tomtit seized greedily at the peach she gave him, and
sitting flat down where he stood, and throwing the flowers
on the ground beside him, began eating it with an earnest
ness of devotion as if his whole being were concentrated in
the act. The color was heightened in his brown cheek by
the exercise, and with his long, drooping curls and eye
lashes, he looked a very pretty centre to the flower-piece
which he had so promptly improvised.
"Ah, how pretty he is!" said Lisette, touching Harry s
elbow. "I wish he was mine! "
"You d have your hands full, if he was," said Harry,
eying the intruder discontentedly, while Lisette stood pick
ing the hulls from a fine bunch of strawberries which she
was ready to give him when he had finished the peach.
HARRY AND HIS WIFE 77
"Beauty makes fools of all you girls," said Harry cyni
cally.
"Is that the reason I married you?" said Lisette
archly. "Well, I know I could make him good, if I had
the care of him. Nothing like coaxing ; is there, Tom ? "
"I 11 boun there ain t!" said Tom, opening his mouth
for the strawberries with much the air of a handsome,
saucy robin.
"Well," said Harry, "I should like to know what
brought him over here. Speak, now, Tom! Weren t
you sent with some message 1 "
"Oh laws, yes!" said Tom, getting up and scratching
his curly head. "Miss Nina sent me. She wants you to
get on dat ar horse, and make tracks for home like split
foot. She done got letters from two or three of her beaux,
and she is dancing and tearing round there real awful. She
done got scared, spects; feard they d all come together."
"And she sent you on a message, and you haven t told
me, all this time ! " said Harry, making a motion as though
he was going to box the child s ears; but the boy glided
out of his hands as if he had been water, and was gone,
vanishing among the shrubbery of the garden; and while
Harry was mounting his horse, he reappeared on the roof
of the little cabin, caracoling and dancing, shouting at the
topmost of his voice,
" Away down old Virginny,
Dere I bought a yellow girl for a guinea."
"I ll give it to you, some time!" said Harry, shaking
his fist at him.
"No, he won t, either," cried Lisette, laughing. "Come
down here, Tomtit, and I 11 make a good boy of you."
CHAPTEK VI
THE DILEMMA
IN order to understand the occasion which hurried
Harry home, we must go back to Canema. Nina, after
taking her letters from the hands of Tomtit, as we have
related, ran back with them into Mrs. Nesbit s room, and
sat herself down to read them. As she read, she evidently
became quite excited and discomposed, crumpling a paper
with her little hand, and tapping her foot impatiently on
the carpet.
"There, now, I m sure I don t know what I shall do,
Aunt Nesbit ! " addressing her aunt, because it was her
outspoken habit to talk to any body or thing which hap
pened to be sitting next to her. "I ve got myself into
a pretty scrape now ! "
"I told you you d get into trouble, one of these days! "
"Oh, you told me so! If there s anything I hate, it is
to have anybody tell me I told you so ! But now, aunt,
really, I know I ve been foolish, but I don t know what
to do. Here are two gentlemen coming together, that I
wouldn t have meet each other here for the world; and I
don t know really what I had better do."
"You d better do just as you please, as you always do,
and always would, ever since I knew you," said Aunt
Nesbit, in a calm, indifferent tone.
"But, really, aunt, I don t know what s proper to do
in such a case."
" Your and my notions of propriety, Nina, are so differ
ent, that I don t know how to advise you. You see the
THE DILEMMA 79
consequences, now, of not attending to the advice of your
friends. I always knew these flirtations of yours would
bring you into trouble." And Aunt Nesbit said this with
that quiet, satisfied air with which precise elderly people
so often edify their thoughtless young friends under diffi
culties.
"Well, I didn t want a sermon, now, Aunt Nesbit;
but as you ve seen a great deal more of the world than I
have, I thought you might help me a little, just to tell me
whether it wouldn t be proper for me to write and put one
of these gentlemen off; or make some excuse for me, or
something. I m sure /never kept house before. I don t
want to do anything that don t seem hospitable; and yet
I don t want them to come together. Now, there, that s
flat!"
There was a long pause, in which Nina sat vexed and
coloring, biting her lips, and nestling uneasily in her seat.
Mrs. Nesbit looked calm and considerate, and Nina
began to hope that she was taking the case a little to heart.
At last the good old lady looked up, and said, very
quietly, "I wonder what time it is."
Nina thought she was debating the expediency of send
ing some message ; and therefore she crossed the room with
great alacrity, to look at the old clock in the entry.
"It s half past two, aunt!" and she stood, with her
lips apart, looking at Mrs. Nesbit for some suggestion.
I was going to tell Rosa," said she abstractedly, "that
that onion in the stuffing does not agree with me. It rose
on my stomach all yesterday morning; but it s too late
now."
Nina actually stamped with anger.
"Aunt Nesbit, you are the most selfish person I ever
saw in my life ! "
"Nina, child, you astonish me!" said Aunt Nesbit,
with her wonted placidity. "What s the matter? "
80 DEED
"I don t care!" said Nina; "I don t care a bit! I
don t see how people can be so! If a dog should come to
me and tell me he was in trouble, I think I should listen
to him, arid show some kind of interest to help him! I
don t care how foolish anybody has been; if they are in
trouble, I d help them, if I could; and I think you might
think enough of it to give me some little advice ! "
"Oh, you are talking about that affair, yet?" said her
aunt. "Why, I believe I told you I didn t know what
to advise, didn t II Shouldn t give way to this temper,
Nina; it s very unladylike, besides being sinful. But
then, I don t suppose it s any use for me to talk! " And
Aunt Nesbit, with an abused air, got up, walked quietly
to the looking-glass, took off her morning-cap, unlocked
her drawer, and laid it in; took out another, which Nina
could not see differed a particle from the last, held it up
thoughtfully on her hand, and appeared absorbed in the
contemplation of it, while Nina, swelling with a mixture
of anger and mortification, stood regarding her as she lei
surely picked out each bow, and finally, with a decorous
air of solemnity, arranged it upon her head, patting it
tenderly down.
"Aunt Nesbit," she said suddenly, as if the words hurt
her, "I think I spoke improperly, and I m very sorry for
it. I beg your pardon."
"Oh, it s no matter, child; I didn t care about it.
I m pretty well used to your temper."
Bang went the door, and in a moment Nina stood in
the entry, shaking her fist at it with impotent wrath.
"You stony, stiff, disagreeable old creature! how came
you ever to be my mother s sister? " And with the word
mother, she burst into a tempest of tears, and rushed vio
lently to her own chamber. The first object that she saw
was Milly, arranging some clothes in her drawer; and to
her astonishment, Nina rushed up to her, and throwing
THE DILEMMA 81
her arms round her neck, sobbed and wept in such tumult
uous excitement that the good creature was alarmed.
"Laws bless my soul, my dear little lamb! what s the
matter? Why, don t! Don t, honey! Why, bless the
dear little soul! bless the dear precious lamb! who s been
a-hurting of it 1 " And at each word of endearment,
Nina s distress broke out afresh, and she sobbed so bitterly
that the faithful creature really began to be frightened.
"Laws, Miss Nina, I hope there ain t nothing happened
to you now ! "
"No, no, nothing, Milly, only I am lonesome, and I
want my mother! I haven t got any mother! Dear
me ! " she said, with a fresh burst.
"Ah, the poor thing!" said Milly compassionately,
sitting down, and fondling Nina in her arms, as if she had
been a babe. "Poor chile! Laws, yes; I member your
ma was a beautiful woman ! "
"Yes," said Nina, speaking between her sobs, "the
girls at school had mothers. And there was Mary Brooks,
she used to read to me her mother s letters, and I used
to feel so, all the while, to think nobody wrote such letters
to me! And there s Aunt Nesbit I don t care what
they say about her being religious, she is the most selfish,
hateful creature I ever did see! I do believe, if I was
lying dead and laid out in the next room to her, she would
be thinking what she d get next for dinner! "
"Oh, don t, my poor lamb, don t!" said Milly compas
sionately.
"Yes, I will, too! She s always taking it for granted
that I m the greatest sinner on the face of the earth!
She don t scold me she don t care enough about me to
scold ! She only takes it for granted, in her hateful, quiet
way, that I m going to destruction, and that she can t
help it, and don t care! Supposing I m not good!
what s to make me good? Is it going to make me good
VOL. I.
82 DEED
for people to sit up so stiff, and tell me they always knew
I was a fool, and a flirt, and all that? Milly, I ve had
dreadful turns of wanting to be good, and I ve laid awake
nights and cried because I wasn t good. And what makes
it worse, is that I think if mamma was alive she could
help me. She wasn t like Aunt Nesbit, was she, Milly? "
"No, honey, she wasn t. I ll tell you about your ma
some time, honey."
"The worst of it is," said Nina, "when Aunt Nesbit
speaks to me in her hateful way, I get angry; then I
speak in a way that isn t proper, I know. Oh, if she
only would get angry with me back again! or if she d do
anything in the world but stand still, in her still way,
telling me she is astonished at me! That s a lie, too; for
she never was astonished at anything in her life! She
has n t life enough to be ! "
"Ah, Miss Nina, we mustn t spect more of folks than
there is in them."
"Expect? I don t expect!"
"Well, bless you, honey, when you knows what folks
is, don t let s worry. Ye can t fill a quart cup out of a
thimble, honey, no way you can fix it. There s just whar
tis. I knowed your ma, and I s knowed Miss Loo, ever
since she was a girl. Pears like they wa n t no more alike
than snow is like sugar. Miss Loo, when she was a girl,
she was that pretty that everybody was wondering after
her; but to de love, dat ar went after your ma. Couldn t
tell why it was, honey. Feared like Miss Loo wa n t
techy, nor she wa n t one of your bursting-out sort, scolding
round. Feared like she d never hurt nobody; and yet
our people, they could n t none of dem bar her. Feared
like nobody did nothing for her with a will."
"Well, good reason!" said Nina; "she never did any
thing for anybody else with a will ! She never cared for
anybody! Now, I m selfish; I always knew it, I do a
THE DILEMMA 83
great many selfish things; but it s a different kind from
hers. Do you know, Milly, she don t seem to know she
is selfish? There she sits, rocking in her old chair, so
sure she s going straight to heaven, and don t care whether
anybody else gets there or not ! "
"Oh laws, now, Miss Nina, you s too hard on her.
Why, look how patient she sits with Tomtit, teaching him
his hymns and varses."
"And you think that s because she cares anything about
him? Do you know, she thinks he isn t fit to go to
heaven, and that if he dies he 11 go to the bad place.
And yet, if he was to die to-morrow, she d talk to you
about clear-starching her caps! No wonder the child don t
love her ! She talks to him just as she does to me ; tells
him she don t expect anything of him she knows he ll
never come to any good; and the little wretch has got it
by heart, now. Do you know that, though I get in a pas
sion with Tom, sometimes, and though I m sure I should
perish sitting boring with him over those old books, yet
I really believe I care more for him than she does ? And
he knows it, too. He sees through her as plain as I do.
You 11 never make me believe that Aunt Nesbit has got
religion. I know there is such a thing as religion; but
she hasn t got it. It isn t all being sober, and crackling
old stiff religious newspapers, and boring with texts and
hymns, that makes people religious. She is just as
worldly minded as I am, only it s in another way. There,
now, I wanted her to advise me about something, to-day.
Why, Milly, all girls want somebody to talk with ; and if
she d only showed the least interest in what I said, she
might scold me and lecture me as much as she d a mind
to. But to have her not even hear me ! And when she
must have seen that I was troubled and perplexed, and
wanted somebody to advise me, she turned round so cool,
and began to talk about the onions and the stuffing ! Got
84 DEED
me so angry ! I suppose she is in her room, now, rocking,
and thinking what a sinner I am ! "
"Well, now, Miss Nina, pears though you ve talked
enough about dat ar; pears like it won t make you feel
no better."
" Yes it does make me feel better ! I had to speak to
somebody, Milly, or else I should have burst; and now I
wonder where Harry is. He always could find a way for
me out of anything."
"He is gone over to see his wife, I think, Miss Nina."
" Oh, too bad ! Do send Tomtit after him, right away.
Tell him that I want him to come right home, this very
minute something very particular. And, Milly, you
just go and tell Old Hundred to get out the carriage and
horses, and I 11 go over and drop a note in the post-office,
myself. I won t trust it to Tomtit; for I know he 11
lose it."
"Miss Nina," said Milly, looking hesitatingly, "I
spect you don t know how things go about round here;
but the fact is, Old Hundred has got so kind of cur ous,
lately, there can t nobody do nothing with him, except
Harry. Don t tend to do nothing Miss Loo tells him to.
I s feard he 11 make up some story or other about the
horses; but he won t get em out now, mind, I tell
you, chile ! "
"He won t! I should like to know if he won t, when
I tell him to ! A pretty story that would be ! I 11 soon
teach him that he has a live mistress somebody quite
different from Aunt Loo ! "
"Well, well, chile, perhaps you d better go. He
wouldn t mind me, I know. Maybe he 11 do it for you."
"Oh yes; I ll just run down to his house, and hurry
him up." And Nina, quite restored to her usual good
humor, tripped gayly across to the cabin of Old Hundred,
that stood the other side of the house.
THE DILEMMA 85
Old Hundred s true name was, in fact, John. But he
had derived the appellation, by which he was always
known, from the extreme moderation of all his movements.
Old Hundred had a double share of that profound sense of
the dignity of his office which is an attribute of the tribe
of coachmen in general. He seemed to consider the horses
and carriage as a sort of family ark, of which he was the
high priest, and which it was his business to save from
desecration. According to his own showing, all the people
on the plantation, and indeed the whole world in general,
were in a state of habitual conspiracy against the family
carriage and horses, and he was standing for them, single-
handed, at the risk of his life. It was as much part of
his duty, in virtue of his office, to show cause, on every
occasion, why the carriage should not be used, as it is for
state attorneys to undertake prosecutions. And it was
also a part of the accomplishment of his situation to con
duct his refusal in the most decorous manner; always
showing that it was only the utter impossibility of the case
which prevented. The available grounds of refusal Old
Hundred had made a life- study, and had always a store of
them cut and dried for use, all ready at a moment s notice.
In the first place, there were always a number of impossi
bilities with regard to the carriage. Either "it was muddy,
and he was laying out to wash it;" or else "he had
washed it, and couldn t have it splashed;" or "he had
taken out the back curtain, and had laid out to put a stitch
in it, one of dese yer days ; " or there was something the
matter with the irons. "He reckoned they was a little
bit sprung." "He lowed he d ask the blacksmith about
it, some of dese yer times." And then as to the horses
the possibilities were rich and abundant. What with
strains, and loose shoes, and stones getting in at the
hoofs, dangers of all sorts of complaints, for which he had
his own vocabulary of names, it was next to an impossi-
86 DEED
bility, according to any ordinary rule of computing chances,
that the two should be in complete order together.
Utterly ignorant, however, of the magnitude of the
undertaking which she was attempting, and buoyant with
the consciousness of authority, Nina tripped singing along,
and found Old Hundred tranquilly reclining in his tent-
door, watching through his half-shut eyes, while the after
noon sunbeam irradiated the smoke which rose from the
old pipe between his teeth. A large, black, one-eyed
crow sat perching, with a quizzical air, upon his knee, and
when he heard Nina s footsteps approaching, cocked his
remaining eye towards her, with a smart, observing atti
tude, as if he had been deputed to look out for applications
while his master dozed. Between this crow, who had
received the sobriquet of Uncle Jeff, and his master there
existed a most particular bond of friendship and amity.
This was further strengthened by the fact that they were
both equally disliked by all the inhabitants of the place.
Like many people who are called to stand in responsible
positions, Old Hundred had rather failed in the humble
virtues, and become dogmatical and dictatorial to that de
gree that nobody but his own wife could do anything with
him. And as to Jeff, if the principle of thievery could
be incarnate, he might have won a temple among the Lace
demonians. In various skirmishes and battles consequent
on his misdeeds, Jeff had lost an eye, and had a consider
able portion of the feathers scalded off on one side of his
head; while the remaining ones, discomposed by the inci
dent, ever after stood up in a protesting attitude, impart
ing something still more sinister to his goblin appearance.
In another rencounter he had received a permanent twist in
the neck, which gave him always the appearance of looking
over his shoulder, and added not a little to the oddity of
the general effect. Uncle Jeff thieved with an assiduity
and skill which were worthy of a better cause, and when
THE DILEMMA 87
not upon any serious enterprise of this kind, employed his
time in pulling up corn, scratching up newly planted
flower seeds, tangling yarn, pulling out knitting-needles,
pecking the eyes of sleeping people, scratching and biting
children, and any other little miscellaneous mischief which
occurred to him. He was invaluable to Old Hundred,
because he was a standing apology for any and all discov
eries made on his premises of things which ought not to
have been there. No matter what was brought to light,
whether spoons from the great house, or a pair of sleeve-
buttons, or a handkerchief, or a pipe from a neighboring
cabin, Jeff was always called up to answer. Old Hun
dred regularly scolded, on these occasions, and declared he
was enough to "spile the character of any man s house."
And Jeff would look at him comically over the shoulder,
and wink his remaining eye, as much as to say that the
scolding was a settled thing between them, and that he
wasn t going to take it at all in ill part.
"Uncle John," said Nina, "I want you to get the car
riage out for me, right away. I want to take a ride over
the cross run."
"Laws bless you sweet face, honey, chile, I s dreadful
sorry; but you can t do it dis yer day."
"Can t do it! Why not?"
"Why, bless you, chile, it ain t possible, noway. Can t
have the carriage and bosses dis yer arternoon."
" But I must go over to cross run to the post-office. I
must go this minute ! "
"Law, chile, you can t do it! fur you can t walk, and
it s sartain you can t ride, because dese yer hosses, nor dis
yer carriage, can t stir out dis yer arternoon, no way you
can fix it. Mout go, perhaps, to-morrow, or next week."
"Oh, Uncle John, I don t believe a word of it! I
want them this afternoon, and I say I must have them ! "
"No, you can t, chile," said Old Hundred, in a tender,
88 DRED
condescending tone, as if he was speaking to a baby. "I
tell you dat ar is impossible. Why, bless your soul, Miss
Nina, de curtains is all off de carriage ! "
"Well, put them on again, then!"
"Ah, Miss Nina, dat ar ain t all. Pete was desperate
sick, last night; took with de thumps, powerful bad.
Why, Miss Nina, he was dat sick I had to be up with him
most all night ! " And while Old Hundred thus adroitly
issued this little work of fiction, the raven nodded wag
gishly at Nina, as much as to say, " You hear that fellow,
now ! "
Nina stood quite perplexed, biting her lips, and Old
Hundred seemed to go into a profound slumber.
"I don t believe but what the horses can go to-day! I
mean to go and look."
"Laws, honey, chile, ye can t, now; de do s is all
locked, and I ve got de key in my pocket. Every one
of dem critturs would have been killed forty times over
fore now. I think everybody in dis yer world is arter
dem dar critturs. Miss Loo, she s wanting em to go one
way, and Harry s allers usin de critturs. Got one out,
dis yer arternoon, riding over to see his wife. Don t see
no use in his riding round so grand, noway ! Laws, Miss
Nina, your pa used to say to me, says he, LTncle John,
you knows more about dem critturs dan I do; and now
I tell you what it is, Uncle John you take care of dem
critturs; don t you let nobody kill em for nothing.
Now, Miss Nina, I s always a- walking in the steps of the
colonel s rections. Now, good, clar, bright weather, over
good roads, I likes to trot the critturs out. Dat ar is rea
sonable. But den, what roads is over the cross run, I
want to know? Dem dere roads is de most mis ablest
things you ever did see. Mud! Hi! Ought for to see
de mud down dar by de creek ! Why, de bridge all tared
off! Man drowned in dat dar creek once! Was so! It
THE DILEMMA 89
ain t no sort of road for young ladies to go over. Tell
you, Miss Nina; why don you let Harry carry your letter
over? If he must be ridin round de country, don t see
why he couldn t do some good wid his ridin . Why, de
carriage would n t get over before ten o clock, dis yer
night! Now, mine, I tell you. Besides, it s gwine fur
to rain. I s been feeling dat ar in my corns, all dis yer
morning; and Jeff, he s been acting like the berry debil
hisself de way he always does fore it rains. Never
knowed dat ar sign to fail."
"The short of the matter is, Uncle John, you are deter
mined not to go," said Nina. "But I tell you you shall
go f there, now ! Now, do you get up immediately, and
get out those horses ! "
Old Hundred still sat quiet, smoking; and Nina, after
reiterating her orders till she got thoroughly angry, began,
at last, to ask herself the question, how she was going to
carry them into execution. Old Hundred appeared to
have descended into himself in a profound reverie, and
betrayed not the smallest sign of hearing anything she
said.
"I wish Harry would come back quick," she said to
herself as she pensively retraced her steps through the gar
den; but Tomtit had taken the commission to go for him
in his usual leisurely way, spending the greater part of the
afternoon on the road.
"Now, ain t you ashamed of yourself, you mean old
nigger ! " said Aunt Kose, the wife of Old Hundred, who
had been listening to the conversation; "talking bout de
creek, and de mud, and de critturs, and Lor knows what
all, when we all knows it s nothing but your laziness ! "
"Well," said Old Hundred, "and what would come o
the critturs if I wasn t lazy, I want to know? Laziness!
it s the berry best thing for the critturs can be. Where d
dem horses a been now, if I had been one of your highfa-
90 DEED
lutin sort, always driving round? Where d dey a been,
and what would dey a been, hey? Who wants to see
hosses all skin and bone ? Lord ! if I had been like some
o de coachmen, de buzzards would have had the picking
of dem critturs, long ago ! "
"I rally believe that you ve told dem dar lies till you
begin to believe them yourself! " said Rose. "Telling our
dear, sweet young lady about your being up with Pete all
night, when de Lord knows you laid here snoring fit to tar
de roof off!"
"Well, must say something! Polks must be spectful
to de ladies. Course I couldn t tell her I wouldn t take
de critturs out; so I just trots out scuse. Ah! lots of
dem scuses I keeps ! I tell you, now, scuses is excellent
things. Why, scuses is like dis yer grease that keeps de
wheels from screaking. Lord bless you, de whole world
turns round on scuses. Whar de world be if everybody
was such fools to tell the raal reason for everything they
are gwine fur to do, or ain t gwine fur to! "
CHAPTER VII
CONSULTATION
"On, Harry, I m so glad to see you back! In such
trouble as I ve been to-day! Don t you think, this very
morning, as I was sitting in Aunt Nesbit s room, Tomtit
brought up these two letters; and one of them is from
Clayton, and the other from Mr. Carson; and now, see
here what Clayton says : I shall have business that will
take me in your vicinity next week; and it is quite possi
ble, unless I hear from you to the contrary, that you may
see me at Canema next Friday or Saturday. Well, then,
see here; there s another from Mr. Carson, that hateful
Carson! Now, you see, he hasn t got my letter; says he
is coming. What impudence! I m tired to death of that
creature, and he 11 be here just as certain ! Disagreeable peo
ple always do keep their promises ! He 11 certainly be here ! "
"Well, Miss Nina, you recollect you said you thought
it would be good fun."
"Oh, Harry, don t bring that up, I beg of you! The
fact is, Harry, I ve altered my mind about that. You
know I ve put a stop to all those foolish things at once,
and am done with them. You know I wrote to Carson
and Emmons, both, that my sentiments had changed, and
all that sort of thing, that the girls always say. I m going
to dismiss all of em at once, and have no more fooling."
"What, all? Mr. Clayton and all?
"Well, I don t know, exactly, no. Do you know,
Harry, I think his letters are rather improving ? at least,
they are different letters from any I ve got before; and
92 DEED
though I don t think I shall break my heart after him, yet
I like to get them. But the other two I m sick to death
of; and as for having that creature boring round here, I
won t! At any rate, I don t want him and Clayton here
together. I would n t have them together for the world;
and I wrote a letter to keep Carson off, this morning, and
I ve been in trouble all day. Everybody has plagued me.
Aunt Nesbit only gave me one of her mopy lectures about
flirting, and would n t help me in the least. And then,
Old Hundred: I wanted him to get out the carriage and
horses for me to go over and put this letter in the office,
and I never saw such a creature in my life! I can t make
him do anything! I should like to know what the use is
of having servants, if you can t get anything done ! "
"Oh, as to Old Hundred, I understand him, and he
understands me," said Harry. "I never find any trouble
with him ; but he is a provoking old creature. He stands
very much on the dignity of his office. But if you want
your letter carried to-night, I can contrive a safer way
than that, if you 11 trust it to me."
"Ah! well, do take it!"
"Yes," said Harry, "I ll send a messenger across on
horseback, and I have means to make him faithful."
" Well, Harry, Harry ! " said Nina, catching at his
sleeve as he was going out, "come back again, won t you?
I want to talk to you."
During Harry s absence, our heroine drew a letter from
her bosom, and read it over.
" How well he writes ! " she said to herself. " So dif
ferent from the rest of them! I wish he d keep away
from here, that s what I do! It s a pretty thing to
get his letters, but I don t think I want to see him. Oh,
dear ! I wish I had somebody to talk to about it Aunt
Nesbit is so cross! I can t no, I won t care about him!
Harry is a kind soul."
CONSULTATION 93
" Ah, Harry, have you sent the letter ? " said she eagerly
as he entered.
"I have, Miss Nina; but I can t natter you too much.
I m afraid it s too late for the mail though there s
never any saying when the mail goes out, within two or
three hours."
"Well, I hope it will stay for me, once. If that stupid
creature comes, why, I don t know what I shall do! He s
so presuming! and he ll squeak about with those horrid
shoes of his; and then, I suppose, it will all come out, one
way or another; and I don t know what Clayton will
think."
"But I thought you didn t care what he thought."
"Well, you know, he s been writing to me all about his
family. There s his father, is a very distinguished man,
of a very old family; and he s been writing to me about
his sister, the most dreadfully sensible sister, he has got
good, lovely, accomplished, and pious! Oh, dear me!
I don t know what in the world he ever thought of me
for! And, do you think, there s a postscript from his
sister, written elegantly as can be ! "
"As to family, Miss Nina," said Harry, "I think the
Gordons can hold up their heads with anybody ; and then,
I rather think you 11 like Miss Clayton."
"Ah! but then, Harry, this talking about fathers and
sisters, it s bringing the thing awfully near! It looks so
much, you know, as if I really were caught. Do you
know, Harry, I think I m just like my pony? You
know, she likes to have you come and offer her corn, and
stroke her neck; and she likes to make you believe she s
going to let you catch her; but when it comes to putting
a bridle on her, she s off in a minute. Now, that s the
way with me. It s rather exciting, you know, these
beaux, and love-letters, and talking sentiment, going to
the opera, and taking rides on horseback, and all that.
94 DEED
But when men get to talking about their fathers, and
their sisters, and to act as if they were sure of me, I m
just like Sylphine I want to be off. You know, Harry,
I think it s a very serious thing, this being married. It s
dreadful! I don t want to be a woman grown. I wish
I could always be a girl, and live just as I have lived, and
have plenty more girls come and see me, and have fun.
I haven t been a bit happy lately, not a bit; and I never
was unhappy before in my life."
"Well, why don t you write to Mr. Clayton, and break
it all off, if you feel so about it 1 "
"Well, why don t II I don t know. I ve had a great
mind to do it; but I m afraid I should feel worse than I
do now. He s coming just like a great dark shadow over
my life, and everything is beginning to feel so real to me!
I don t want to take up life in earnest. I read a story,
once, about Undine; and, do you know, Harry, I think
I feel just as Undine did, when she felt her soul coming
in her?"
"And is Clayton Knight Heldebound?" said Harry,
smiling.
"I don t know. What if he should be? Now, Harry,
you see the fact is that sensible men get their heads turned
by such kind of girls as I am; and they pet us, and
humor us. But then, I m afraid they re thinking, all
the while, that their turn to rule is coming, by and by.
They marry us because they think they are going to make
us over; and what I m afraid of is, I never can be made
over. Don t think I was cut out right in the first place;
and there never will be much more of me than there is
now. And he .11 be comparing me with his pattern sister ;
and I sha n t be any the more amiable for that. Now, his
sister is what folks call highly educated, you know, Harry.
She understands all about literature, and everything. As
for me, I ve just cultivation enough to appreciate a fine
CONSULTATION 95
horse that s the extent. And yet I m proud. I
wouldn t wish to stand second, in his opinion, even to his
sister. So, there it is. That s the way with us girls!
We are always wanting what we know we ought not to
have, and are not willing to take the trouble to get."
"Miss Nina, if you 11 let me speak my mind out frankly,
now, I want to offer one piece of advice. Just he perfectly
true and open with Mr. Clayton ; and if he and Mr. Car
son should come together, just tell him frankly how the
matter stands. You are a Gordon, and they say truth
always runs in the Gordon blood; and now, Miss Nina,
you are no longer a schoolgirl, but a young lady at the
head of the estate."
He stopped, and hesitated.
"Well, Harry, you needn t stop. I understand you
got a few grains of sense left, I hope, and have n t got so
many friends that I can afford to get angry with you for
nothing. "
"I suppose," said Harry thoughtfully, "that your aunt
will be well enough to be down to the table. Have you
told her how matters stand 1 "
"Who? Aunt Loo"? Catch me telling her anything!
No, Harry, I ve got to stand all alone. I haven t any
mother, and I haven t any sister; and Aunt Loo is worse
than nobody, because it s provoking to have somebody
round that you feel might take an interest, and ought to,
and don t care a red cent for you. Well, I declare, if
I m not much, if I m not such a model as Miss Clay
ton, there, how could any one expect it, when I have
just come up by myself, first at the plantation, here, and
then at that French boarding-school? I tell you what,
Harry, boarding-schools are not what they re cried up to
be. It s good fun, no doubt, but we never learnt any
thing there. That is to say, we never learnt it internally,
but had it just rubbed on to us outside. A girl can t
96 DRED
help, of course, learning something; and I ve learnt just
what I happened to like and couldn t help, and a deal
that isn t of the most edifying nature besides."
Well! we shall see what will come!
CHAPTER VIII
OLD TIFF
" I SAY, Tiff, do you think he will come to-night 1 "
"Laws, laws, missis, how can Tiff tell? I s been
a-gazin out de do . Don t see nor hear nothin ."
"It s so lonesome! so lonesome! and the nights so
long!"
And the speaker, an emaciated, feeble little woman,
turned herself uneasily on the ragged pallet where she was
lying, and twirling her slender fingers nervously, gazed
up at the rough, unplastered beams above.
The room was of the coarsest and rudest cast. The hut
was framed of rough pine logs, filled between the crevices
with mud and straw; the floor made of rough-split planks,
unevenly jointed together; the window was formed by
some single panes arranged in a row where a gap had been
made in one of the logs. At one end was a rude chimney
of sticks, where smouldered a fire of pine-cones and brush
wood, covered over with a light coat of white ashes. On
the mantel over it was a shelf, which displayed sundry
vials, a cracked teapot and tumbler, some medicinal-looking
packages, a turkey s wing, much abridged and defaced by
frequent usage, some bundles of dry herbs, and lastly a
gayly painted mug of coarse crockery ware, containing a
bunch of wild-flowers. On pegs, driven into the logs,
were arranged different articles of female attire, and divers
little coats and dresses, which belonged to smaller wearers,
with now and then soiled and coarse articles of man s
apparel.
VOL. L
98 DEED
The woman, who lay upon a coarse chaff pallet in the
corner, was one who once might have been pretty. Her
skin was fair, her hair soft and curling, her eyes of a beau
tiful blue, her hands thin and transparent as pearl. But
the deep, dark circles under the eyes, the thin, white lips,
the attenuated limbs, the hurried breathing, and the burn
ing spots in the cheek told that, whatever she might have
been, she was now not long for this world.
Beside her bed was sitting an old negro, in whose close-
curling wool age had begun to sprinkle flecks of white.
His countenance presented, physically, one of the most
uncomely specimens of negro features; and would have
been positively frightful, had it not been redeemed by an
expression of cheerful kindliness which beamed from it.
His face was of ebony blackness, with a wide, upturned
nose, a mouth of portentous size, guarded by clumsy lips,
revealing teeth which a shark might have envied. The
only fine feature was his large black eyes, which, at the
present, were concealed by a huge pair of plated spectacles,
placed very low upon his nose, and through which he was
directing his sight upon a child s stocking, that he was
busily darning. At his foot was a rude cradle, made of
a gum-tree log, hollowed out into a trough, and wadded
by various old fragments of flannel, in which slept a very
young infant. Another child, of about three years of age,
was sitting on the negro s knee, busily playing with some
pine cones and mosses.
The figure of the old negro was low and stooping; and
he wore, pinned round his shoulders, a half-handkerchief
or shawl of red flannel, arranged much as an old woman
would have arranged it. One or two needles, with coarse,
black thread dangling to them, were stuck in on his shoul
der; and as he busily darned on the little stocking, he
kept up a kind of droning intermixture of chanting and
talking to the child on his knee.
OLD TIFF 99
"So, ho, Teddy! bub dar! my man! sit still!
cause yer ma s sick, and sister s gone for medicine. Dar,
Tiff 11 sing to his little man.
Christ was born in Bethlehem,
Christ was born in Bethlehem,
And in a manger laid.
Take car, dar ! dat ar needle scratch yer little fingers !
poor little fingers ! Ah, be still, now ! play wid yer
pretty tings, and see what yer pa 11 bring ye! "
" Oh, dear me ! well ! " said the woman on the bed,
"I shall give up!"
" Bress de Lord, no, missis ! " said Tiff, laying down
the stocking, and holding the child to him with one hand,
while the other was busy in patting and arranging the bed
clothes. "No use in givin up! Why, Lord bress you,
missis, we 11 be all up right agin in a few days. Work
has been kinder pressin , lately, and chil n s clothes ain t
quite so speckable; but den I s doin heaps o mendin .
See dat ar ! " said he, holding up a slip of red flannel, re
splendent with a black patch, "dat ar hole won t, go no
furder and it does well enough for Teddy to wear rollin
round de do , and such like times, to save his bettermost.
And de way I s put de yarn in dese yer stockings ain t
slow. Den I s laid out to take a stitch in Teddy s shoes;
and dat ar hole in de kiverlet, dat ar 11 be stopped fore
morning. Oh, let me alone! he! he! he! Ye didn t
keep Tiff for nothing, missis ho, ho, ho ! " And the
black face seemed really to become unctuous with the oil
of gladness, as Tiff proceeded in his work of consolation.
"Oh, Tiff, Tiff! you re a good creature! But you
don t know. Here I ve been lying alone day after day,
and he off, nobody knows where ! And when he comes,
it ll be only a day, and he s off; and all he does don t
amount to anything all miserable rubbish brought home
and traded off for other rubbish. Oh, what a fool I was
100 DEED
for being married ! Oh, dear ! girls little know what mar
riage is! I thought it was so dreadful to be an old maid,
and a pretty thing to get married! But, oh, the pain,
and worry, and sickness, and suffering I ve gone through!
always wandering from place to place, never settled;
one thing gojng after another, worrying, watching, weary,
and all for nothing, for I am worn out, and I shall
die ! "
"Oh, Lord, no! 7 said Tiff earnestly. "Lor, Tiff 11
make ye some tea, and give it to ye, ye poor lamb! It s
drefful hard, so tis; but times 11 mend, and massa 11
come round and be more settled, like, and Teddy will
grow up and help his ma; and I m sure dere isn t a
pearter young un dan dis yer puppet ! " said he, turning
fondly to the trough where the little fat, red mass of in
cipient humanity was beginning to throw up two small
fists, and to utter sundry small squeaks, to intimate his
desire to come into notice.
"Lor, now," said he, adroitly depositing Teddy on the
floor, and taking up the baby, whom he regarded fondly
through his great spectacles; "stretch away, my pretty!
stretch away! ho-e-ho! Lor, if he hasn t got his mammy s
eye, for all dis worl ! Ah, brave ! See him, missis ! "
said he, laying the little bundle on the bed by her. "Did
ye ever see a peartier young un 1 He, he, he ! Dar, now,
his mammy should take him, so she should! and Tiff 11
make mammy some tea, so he will ! " And Tiff, in a
moment, was on his knees, carefully laying together the
ends of the burned sticks, and blowing a cloud of white
ashes, which powdered his woolly head and red shawl like
snowflakes, while Teddy was busy in pulling the needles out
of some knitting- work which hung in a bag by the fire.
Tiff, having started the fire by blowing, proceeded very
carefully to adjust upon it a small, black porringer of
water, singing, as he did so,
OLD TIFF 101
" My way is dark and cloudy,
So it is, so it is ;
My way is dark and cloudy,
All de day. "
Then rising from his work, he saw that the poor, weak
mother had clasped the baby to her bosom, and was sob
bing very quietly. Tiff, as he stood there, with his short,
square, ungainly figure, his long arms hanging out from
his side like bows, his back covered by the red shawl,
looked much like a compassionate tortoise standing on its
hind legs. He looked pitifully at the sight, took off his
glasses and wiped his eyes, and lifted up his voice in an
other stave :
" But we 11 join de forty tousand, by and by,
So we will, so we will.
We 11 join de forty tousand, upon de golden shore,
And our sorrows will be gone forevermore, more, more.
"Bress my soul, Mas r Teddy! now us been haulm
out de needles from Miss Fanny s work! dat ar ain t
purty, now! Tiff 11 be shamed of ye, and ye do like dat
when yer ma s sick! Don t ye know ye must be good,
else Tiff won t tell ye no stories! Dar, now, sit down on
dis yere log; dat ar s just the nicest log! plenty o moss
on it yer can be a-pickin out ! Now, yer sit still dar, and
don t be interruptin yer ma."
The urchin opened a wide, round pair of blue eyes upon
Tiff, looking as if he were mesmerized, and sat, with a
quiet, subdued air, upon his log, while Tiff went fumbling
about in a box in the corner. After some rattling, he
produced a pine knot, as the daylight was fading fast in
the room, and driving it into a crack in another log which
stood by the chimney-corner, he proceeded busily to light
it, muttering, as he did so,
"Want to make it more cheerful like."
Then he knelt down and blew the coals under the little
porringer, which, like pine coals in general, always sulked
102 DEED
and looked black when somebody was not blowing them.
He blew vigorously, regardless of the clouds of ashes which
encircled him, and which settled even on the tips of his
eyelashes, and balanced themselves on the end of his nose.
"Bress de Lord, I s dreadful strong in my breff ! Lord,
dey might have used me in blacksmissin ! I s kep dis yer
chimney a-gwine dis many a day. I wonder, now, what
keeps Miss Fanny out so long ? "
And Tiff rose up with the greatest precaution, and glan
cing every moment towards the bed, and almost tipping
himself over in his anxiety to walk softly, advanced to the
rude door, which opened with a wooden latch and string,
opened it carefully, and looked out. Looking out with
him, we perceive that the little hut stands alone, in the
heart of a dense pine forest, which shuts it in on every
side.
Tiff held the door open a few moments to listen. No
sound was heard but the shivering wind, swaying and sur
ging in melancholy cadences through the long pine leaves,
a lonesome, wailing, uncertain sound.
"Ah! dese yer pine-trees! dey always a-talkin ! " said
Tiff to himself, in a sort of soliloquy. "Whisper, whis
per, whisper! De Lord knows what it s all about! dey
never tells folks what dey wants to know. Hark ! dar is
Foxy, as sure as I m a livin sinner ! Ab ! dar she is ! "
as a quick, loud bark reverberated. "Ah, ha! Foxy!
you ll bring her along!" caressing a wolfish-looking, lean
cur, who came bounding through the trees.
"Ah, yer good-for-nothing! what makes yer run so fast,
and leave yer missus behind ye? Hark! what s dat! "
The clear voice came caroling gayly from out the pine-
trees,
" If you get there before I do
I m bound for the land of Canaan."
Whereupon Tiff, kindling with enthusiasm, responded,
OLD TIFF 103
"Look out for me I m coming too
I m bound for the land of Canaan."
The response was followed by a gay laugh, as a childish
voice shouted, from the woods,
"Ha! Tiff, you there?"
And immediately a bold, bright, blue-eyed girl, of about
eight years old, came rushing forward.
"Lors, Miss Fanny, so grad you s come! Yer ma s
powerful weak dis yer arternoon ! " And then, sinking his
voice to a whisper, "Why, now, yer d better b lieve her
sperits isn t the best! Why, she s that bad, Miss Fanny,
she actually been a-cryin when I put the baby in her
arms. Railly, I m consarned, and I wish yer pa ud come
home. Did yer bring de medicine ? "
"Ah, yes; here tis."
"Ah! so good! I was a-makin of her some tea, to set
her up, like, and I 11 put a little drop of dis yer in t.
You gwin, now, and speak to yer ma, and I 11 pick up a
little light wood round here, and make up de fire. Massa
Teddy 11 be powerful glad to see yer. Hope you s got
him something, too ! "
The girl glided softly into the room, and stood over the
bed where her mother was lying.
"Mother, I ve come home," said she gently.
The poor, frail creature in the bed seemed to be in one
of those helpless hours of life s voyage when all its waves
and billows are breaking over the soul; and while the
little newcomer was blindly rooting and striving at her
breast, she had gathered the worn counterpane over her
face, and the bed was shaken by her sobbings.
"Mother! mother! mother! " said the child, softly
touching her.
"Go away! go away, child! Oh, I wish I had never
been born ! I wish you had never been born, nor Teddy,
nor the baby! It s all nothing but trouble and sor-
104 DEED
row! Fanny, don t you ever marry! Mind what I tell
you!"
The child stood frightened by the bedside, while Tiff
had softly deposited a handful of pine wood near the fire
place, had taken off the porringer, and was busily stirring
and concocting something in an old cracked china mug. As
he stirred, a strain of indignation seemed to cross his gener
ally tranquil mind, for he often gave short sniffs and grunts,
indicative of extreme disgust, and muttered to himself,
" Dis yer comes of quality marrying these yer poor white
folks! Never had no pinion on it, noway! Ah! do
hear the poor lamb now! nough to break one s heart! "
By this time, the stirring and flavoring being finished to
his taste, he came to the side of the bed, and began, in
a coaxing tone,
"Come, now, Miss Sue, come! You s all worn out!
No wonder ! dat ar great fellow tugging at you ! Bless his
dear little soul, he s gaming half a pound a week! Nough
to pull down his ma entirely ! Come, now ; take a little
sup of this just a little sup! Warm you up, and put a
bit of life in you; and den I spects to fry you a morsel
of der chicken, cause a boy like dis yer can t be nursed
on slops, dat I knows ! Dere, dere, honey ! " said he,
gently removing the babe, and passing his arm under the
pillow. "I s drefful strong in the back. My arm is long
and strong, and I 11 raise you up just as easy ! Take a
good sup on it, now, and wash dese troubles down. I
reckon the good man above is looking down on us all, and
bring us all round right, some time."
The invalid, who seemed exhausted by the burst of feel
ing to which she had been giving way, mechanically obeyed
a voice to which she had always been accustomed, and
drank eagerly, as if with feverish thirst; and when she
had done, she suddenly threw her arms around the neck
of her strange attendant.
OLD TIFF 105
"Oh, Tiff, Tiff! poor old black, faithful Tiff! What
should I have done without you? So sick as I ve been,
and so weak, and so lonesome! But, Tiff, it s coming to
an end pretty soon. I ve seen, to-night, that I ain t going
to live long, and I ve been crying to think the children
have got to live. If I could only take them all into my
arms, and all lie down in the grave together, I should be
so glad! I never knew what God made me for! I ve
never been fit for anything, nor done anything ! "
Tiff seemed so utterly overcome by this appeal, his great
spectacles were fairly washed down in a flood of tears, and
his broad, awkward frame shook with sobs.
"Law bless you, Miss Sue, don t be talking dat ar way!
Why, if de Lord should call you, Miss Sue, I can take
care of the children. I can bring them up powerful, I
tell ye ! But you won t be a-going; you 11 get better ! It s
just the sperits is low; and laws, why shouldn t dey be? "
Just at this moment a loud barking was heard outside
the house, together with the rattle of wheels and the tramp
of horses feet.
"Dar s massa, sure as I m alive! " said he, hastily lay
ing down the invalid, and arranging her pillows.
A rough voice called, "Hallo, Tiff! here with a light! "
Tiff caught the pine knot, and ran to open the door.
A strange-looking vehicle, of a most unexampled composite
order, was standing before the door, drawn by a lean, one-
eyed horse.
"Here, Tiff, help me out. I ve got a lot of goods
here. How s Sue?"
"Missis is powerful bad; been wanting to see you dis
long time."
"Well, away, Tiff! take this out," indicating a long,
rusty piece of stove-pipe.
" Lay this in the house ; and here ! " handing a cast-iron
stove-door, with the latch broken.
106 DEED
"Law, massa, what on arth is the use of dis yer? "
"Don t ask questions, Tiff; work away. Help me out
with these boxes."
"What on arth now?" said Tiff to himself, as one
rough case after another was disgorged from the vehicle,
and landed in the small cabin. This being done, and
orders being given to Tiff to look after the horse and equi
page, the man walked into the house, with a jolly, slash
ing air.
"Hallo, bub!" said he, lifting the two-year-old above
his head. "Hallo, Fan!" imprinting a kiss on the cheek
of his girl. "Hallo, Sis!" coining up to the bed where
the invalid lay, and stooping down over her. Her weak,
wasted arms were tkrown around his neck, and she said,
with sudden animation,
"Oh, you ve come at last! I thought I should die
without seeing you ! "
"Oh, you ain t a-going to die, Sis! Why, what talk!"
said he, chucking her under the chin. "Why, your
cheeks are as red as roses ! "
"Pa, see the baby!" said little Teddy, who, having
climbed over the bed, opened the flannel bundle.
"Ah! Sis, I call that ar a tolerable fair stroke of busi
ness! Well, I tell you what, I ve done up a trade now
that will set us up and no mistake. Besides which, I ve
got something now in my coat-pocket that would raise a
dead cat to life, if she was lying at the bottom of a pond,
with a stone round her neck! See here! Dr. Puffer s
Elixir of the Water of Life ! warranted to cure janders,
toothache, earache, scrofula, spepsia, sumption, and every
thing else that ever I hearn of! A teaspoonful of that ar,
mom and night, and in a week you 11 be round agin, as
pert as a cricket ! "
It was astonishing to see the change which the entrance
of this man had wrought on the invalid. All her appre-
OLD TIFF 107
hensions seemed to have vanished. She sat up on the
bed, following his every movement with her eyes, and
apparently placing full confidence in the new medicine, as
if it were the first time that ever a universal remedy had
been proposed to her. It must be noticed, however, that
Tin", who had returned, and was building the fire, indulged
himself, now and then, when the back of the speaker was
turned, by snuffing at him in a particularly contemptuous
manner. The man was a thick-set and not ill-looking
personage, who might have been forty or forty-five years
of age. His eyes, of a clear, lively brown, his close-curl
ing hair, his high forehead, and a certain devil-may-care
frankness of expression were traits not disagreeable, and
which went some way to account for the partial eagerness
with which the eye of the wife followed him.
The history of the pair is briefly told. He was the son
of a small farmer of North Carolina. His father, having
been so unfortunate as to obtain possession of a few negroes,
the whole family became ever after inspired with an in
tense disgust for all kinds of labor; and John, the oldest
son, adopted for himself the ancient and honorable profes
sion of a loafer. To lie idle in the sun in front of some
small grog-shop, to attend horse-races, cock-fights, and
gander-pullings, to flout out occasionally in a new waist
coat, bought with money which came nobody knew how,
were pleasures to him all satisfactory. He was as guiltless
of all knowledge of common-school learning as Governor
Berkley could desire, and far more clear of religious train
ing than a Mahometan or a Hindoo.
In one of his rambling excursions through the country,
he stopped a night at a worn-out and broken-down old
plantation, where everything had run down, through many
years of mismanagement and waste. There he stayed
certain days, playing cards with the equally hopeful son
of the place, and ended his performances by running away
108 DEED
one night with the soft-hearted daughter, only fifteen years
of age, and who was full as idle, careless, and untaught
as he.
The family, whom poverty could not teach to forget
their pride, were greatly scandalized at the marriage ; and
had there been anything left in the worn-out estate where
with to portion her, the bride, nevertheless, would have
been portionless. The sole piece of property that went
out with her from the paternal mansion was one who,
having a mind and will of his own, could not be kept from
following her. The girl s mother had come from a distant
branch of one of the most celebrated families in Virginia,
and Tiff had been her servant; and with a heart forever
swelling with the remembrances of the ancestral greatness
of the Peytons, he followed his young mistress in her
mesalliance with long-suffering devotion. He even bowed
his neck so far as to acknowledge for his master a man
whom he considered by position infinitely his inferior; for
Tiff, though crooked and black, never seemed to cherish
the slightest doubt that the whole force of the Peyton
blood coursed through his veins, and that the Peyton honor
was intrusted to his keeping. His mistress was a Peyton,
her children were Peyton children, and even the little
bundle of flannel in the gum-tree cradle was a Peyton;
and as for him, he was Tiff Peyton, and this thought
warmed and consoled him as he followed his poor mistress
during all the steps of her downward course in the world.
On her husband he looked with patronizing, civil contempt.
He wished him well; he thought it proper to put the best
face on all his actions; but in a confidential hour, Tiff
would sometimes raise his spectacles emphatically, and
give it out, as his own private opinion, "dat dere could
not be much spected from dat ar scription of people! "
In fact, the roving and unsettled nature of John Cripps s
avocations and locations might have justified the old fel-
OLD TIFF 109
low s contempt. His industrial career might be defined as
comprising a little of everything, and a great deal of
nothing. He had begun, successively, to learn two or
three trades ; had half made a horse-shoe, and spoiled one
or two carpenter s planes; had tried his hand at stage-
driving; had raised fighting-cocks, and kept dogs for hunt
ing negroes. But he invariably retreated from every one
of his avocations, in his own opinion a much-abused man.
The last device that had entered his head was suggested
by the success of a shrewd Yankee peddler, who, having
a lot of damaged and unsalable material to dispose of,
talked him into the belief that he possessed yet an unde
veloped talent for trade; and poor John Cripps, guiltless
of multiplication or addition table, and who kept his cock-
fighting accounts on his fingers and by making chalk-marks
behind the doors, actually was made to believe that he had
at last received his true vocation.
In fact, there was something in the constant restlessness
of this mode of life that suited his roving turn; and
though he was constantly buying what he could not sell,
and losing on all that he did sell, yet somehow he kept up
an illusion that he was doing something, because stray
coins now and then passed through his pockets, and because
the circle of small taverns in which he could drink and
loaf was considerably larger. There was one resource
which never failed him when all other streams went dry ;
and that was the unceasing ingenuity and fidelity of the
bondman Tiff.
Tiff, in fact, appeared to be one of those comfortable old
creatures who retain such a good understanding with all
created nature that food never is denied them. Fish would
always bite on Tiff s hook when they wouldn t on any
body s else; so that he was wont confidently to call the
nearest stream "Tiff s pork-barrel." Hens always laid
eggs for Tiff, and cackled to him confidentially where they
110 DEED
were deposited. Turkeys gobbled and strutted for him,
and led forth for him broods of downy little ones. All
sorts of wild game, squirrels, rabbits, coons, and possums,
appeared to come with pleasure and put themselves into
his traps and springes ; so that, where another man might
starve, Tiff would look round him with unctuous satisfac
tion, contemplating all nature as his larder, where his pro
visions were wearing fur coats, and walking about on four
legs, only for safe keeping till he got ready to eat them.
So that Cripps never came home without anticipation of
something savory, even although he had drank up his last
quarter of a dollar at the tavern. This suited Cripps. He
thought Tiff was doing his duty, and occasionally brought
him home some unsalable bit of rubbish, by way of testi
monial of the sense he entertained of his worth. The
spectacles in which Tiff gloried came to him in this man
ner; and although it might have been made to appear that
the glasses were only plain Avindow-glass, Tiff was happily
ignorant that they were not the best of convex lenses, and
still happier in the fact that his strong, unimpaired eye
sight made any glasses at all entirely unnecessary. It was
only an aristocratic weakness in Tiff. Spectacles he some
how considered the mark of a gentleman, and an appropri
ate symbol for one who had "been fetched up in the very
fustest families of Old Virginny."
He deemed them more particularly appropriate, as, in
addition to his manifold outward duties, he likewise as
sumed, as the reader has seen, some feminine accomplish
ments. Tiff could darn a stocking with anybody in the
country; he could cut out children s dresses and aprons;
he could patch, and he could seam; all which he did with
infinite self-satisfaction.
Notwithstanding the many crooks and crosses in his lot,
Tiff was, on the whole, a cheery fellow. He had an oily,
rollicking fullness of nature, an exuberance of physical satis-
OLD TIFF 111
faction in existence, that the greatest weight of adversity
could only tone down to becoming sobriety. He was on
the happiest terms of fellowship with himself; he liked
himself, he believed in himself; and when nobody else
would do it, he would pat himself on his own shoulder,
and say, "Tiff, you re a jolly dog, a fine fellow, and I
like you ! " He was seldom without a running strain of
soliloquy with himself, intermingled with joyous bursts of
song and quiet intervals of laughter. On pleasant days
Tiff laughed a great deal. He laughed when his beans
came up, he laughed when the sun came out after a storm,
he laughed for fifty things that you never think of laugh
ing at ; and it agreed with him he throve upon it. In
times of trouble and perplexity, Tiff talked to himself, and
found a counselor who always kept secrets. On the pre
sent occasion it was not without some inward discontent
that he took a survey of the remains of one of his best-
fatted chickens, which he had been intending to serve up,
piecemeal, for his mistress. So he relieved his mind by
a little confidential colloquy with himself.
"Dis yer," he said to himself, with a contemptuous in
clination toward the newly arrived, " will be for eating like
a judgment, I pose. Wish, now, I had killed de old
gobbler ! Good enough for him raal tough, he is. Dis
yer, now, was my primest chicken, and dar she 11 jist sit
and see him eat it ! Laws, dese yer women ! Why, dey
does get so sot on husbands! Pity they couldn t have
something like to be sot on ! It jist riles me to see him gob
bling down everything, and she a-looking on ! Well, here
goes," said he, depositing the frying-pan over the coals,
in which the chicken was soon fizzling. Drawing out the
table, Tiff prepared it for supper. Soon coffee was steaming
over the fire, and corn-dodgers baking in the ashes. Mean
while, John Cripps was busy explaining to his wife the
celebrated wares that had so much raised his spirits.
112 DEED
"Well, now, you see, Sue, this yer time I ve been up
to Baleigh; and I met a fellow there, coming from New
York, or New Orleans, or some of them northern states."
"New Orleans isn t a northern state," humbly inter
posed his wife, "is it? "
"Well, New something! Who the devil cares? Don t
you be interrupting me, you Suse ! "
Could Cripps have seen the vengeful look which Tiff
gave him over the spectacles at this moment, he might
have trembled for his supper. But innocent of this, he
proceeded with his story.
"You see, this yer fellow had a case of bonnets just the
height of the fashion. They come from Paris, the capital
of Europe ; and he sold them to me for a mere song. Ah,
you ought to see em! I m going to get em out. Tiff,
hold the candle, here." And Tiff held the burning torch
with an air of grim skepticism and disgust, while Cripps
hammered and wrenched the top boards off, and displayed
to view a portentous array of bonnets, apparently of every
obsolete style and fashion of the last fifty years.
"Dem s fustrate for scarecrows, anyhow!" muttered
Tiff.
"Now, what," said Cripps, "Sue, what do you think
I gave for these ? "
"I don t know," said she faintly.
"Well, I gave fifteen dollars for the whole box! And
there ain t one of these," said he, displaying the most sin
gular specimen on his hand, "that isn t worth from two to
five dollars. I shall clear, at least, fifty dollars on that
box."
Tiff, at this moment, turned to his frying-pan, and bent
over it, soliloquizing as he did so,
"Anyway, I s found out one ting, where de women
gets dem roosts of bonnets dey wars at camp-meetings.
Laws, dey s enough to spile a work of grace, dem ar! If
OLD TIFF 113
I was to meet one of dem ar of a dark night in a grave
yard, I should tink I was sent for not the pleasantest
way of sending, neither. Poor missis ! looking mighty
faint ! Don t wonder ! Nough to scarr a weakly woman
into fits ! "
"Here, Tiff, help me to open this box. Hold the light,
here. Durned if it don t come off hard! Here s a lot of
shoes and boots I got of the same man. Some on em s
mates, and some ain t; but then, I took the lot cheap.
Folks don t always warr both shoes alike. Might like to
warr an odd one, sometimes, ef it s cheap. Now, this yer
parr of boots is lady s gaiters, all complete, cept there s
a hole in the lining down by the toe; body ought to be
careful about putting it on, else the foot will slip between
the outside and the lining. Anybody that bears that in
mind just as nice a pair of gaiters as they d want!
Bargain, there, for somebody complete one, too. Then
I ve got two or three old bureau drawers that I got cheap
at auction; and I reckon some on em will fit the old frame
that I got last year. Got em for a mere song."
"Bless you, massa, dat ar old bureau I took for de
chicken-coop! Turkeys chickens hops in lively."
"Oh, well, scrub it up twill answer just as well.
Fit the drawers in. And now, old woman, we will sit
down to supper," said he, planting himself at the table,
and beginning a vigorous onslaught on the fried chicken,
without invitation to any other person present to assist
him.
"Missis can t sit up at the table," said Tiff. "She s
done been sick ever since de baby was born." And Tiff
approached the bed with a nice morsel of chicken which he
had providently preserved on a plate, and which he now
reverently presented on a board, as a waiter, covered with
newspaper.
"Now, do eat, missis; you can t live on looking, no-
VOL. I.
114 DEED
ways you can fix it. Do eat while Tiff gets on de baby s
nightgown. "
To please her old friend, the woman made a feint of
eating, but while Tiff s back was turned to the fire, busied
herself with distributing it to the children, who had stood
hungrily regarding her, as children will regard what is put
on to a sick mother s plate.
"It does me good to see them eat," she said apologeti
cally once, when Tiff, turning round, detected her in the
act.
"Ah, missis, maybe! but you ve got to eat for two,
now. What dey eat ain t going to dis yer little man,
here. Mind dat ar."
Cripps apparently bestowed very small attention on any
thing except the important business before him, which
he prosecuted with such devotion that very soon coffee,
chicken, and dodgers had all disappeared. Even the bones
were sucked dry, and the gravy wiped from the dish.
"Ah, that s what I call comfortable!" said he, lying
back in his chair. "Tiff, pull my boots off! and hand
out that ar demijohn. Sue, I hope you ve made a com
fortable meal," he said incidentally, standing with his
back to her, compounding his potation of whiskey and
water; which having drank, he called up Teddy, and
offered him the sugar at the bottom of the glass. But
Teddy, being forewarned by a meaning glance through
Tiff s spectacles, responded, very politely,
"No, I thank you, pa. I don t love it."
"Come here, then, and take it off like a man. It s
good for you," said John Cripps.
The mother s eyes followed the child wishfully; and
she said faintly, "Don t John! don t! " And Tiff
ended the controversy by taking the glass unceremoniously
out of his master s hand.
"Laws bless you, massa, can t be bodered with dese yer
OLD TIFF 115
young ones dis yer time of night ! Time dey s all in bed,
and dishes washed up. Here, Tedd," seizing the child,
and loosening the buttons of his slip behind, and drawing
out a rough trundle-bed, "you crawl in dere, and curl up
in your nest; and don t you forget your prars, honey, else
maybe you 11 never wake up again."
Cripps had now filled a pipe with tobacco of the most
villainous character, with which incense he was perfuming
the little apartment.
"Laws, massa, dat ar smoke ain t good for missis," said
Tiff. "She done been sick to her stomach all day."
" Oh, let him smoke ! I like to have him enjoy him
self," said the indulgent wife. "But, Fanny, you had
better go to bed, dear. Come here and kiss me, child;
good-night, good-night ! "
The mother held on to her long, and looked at her wish
fully ; and when she had turned to go, she drew her back,
and kissed her again, and said, "Good-night, dear child,
good-night ! "
Fanny climbed up a ladder in one corner of the room,
through a square hole, to the loft above.
"I say," said Cripps, taking his pipe out of his mouth,
and looking at Tiff, who was busy washing the dishes, "I
say it s kind of peculiar that gal keeps sick so. Seemed
to have good constitution when I married her. I m think
ing," said he, without noticing the gathering wrath in
Tiff s face, "I m a-thinking whether steamin wouldn t
do her good. Now, I got a most dreadful cold when I
was up at Raleigh thought I should have given up ; and
there was a steam-doctor there. Had a little kind of ma
chine, with kettle and pipes, and he put me in a bed, put
in the pipes, and set it a-going. I thought, my soul, I
should have been floated off; but it carried off the cold,
complete. I m thinking if something of that kind
wouldn t be good for Mis Cripps,"
116 DRED
"Laws, massa, don t go for to trying it on her! She is
never no better for dese yer things you do for her."
"Now," said Cripps, not appearing to notice the inter
ruption, "these yer stove-pipes, and the teakettle, I
should n t wonder if we could get up a steam with them! "
"It s my private pinion, if you do, she ll be sailing
out of the world," said Tiff. " What s one man s meat is
another one s pisin, my old mis s used to say. Very best
thing you can do for her is to let her alone. Dat ar is my
pinion."
"John," said the little woman, after a few minutes, "I
wish you d come here, and sit on the bed."
There was something positive, and almost authoritative,
in the manner in which this was said, which struck John
as so unusual, that he came with a bewildered air, sat
down, and gazed at her with his mouth wide open.
"I m so glad you ve come home, because I have had
things that I ve wanted to say to you! I ve been lying
here thinking about it, and I have been turning it over in
my mind. I m going to die soon, I know."
"Ah! bah! Don t be bothering a fellow with any of
your hysterics ! "
"John, John! it isn t hysterics! Look at me! Look
at my hand ! look at my face ! I m so weak, and some
times I have such coughing spells, and every time it seems
to me as if I should die. But it ain t to trouble you that
I talk. I don t care about myself, but I don t want the
children to grow up and be like what we ve been. You
have a great many contrivances; do, pray, contrive to have
them taught to read, and make something of them in the
world."
"Bah! what s the use? I never learnt to read, and
I m as good a fellow as I want. Why, there s plenty of
men round here making their money, every year, that
can t read or write a word. Old Hubell, there, up on the
OLD TIFF 117
Shad plantation, has hauled in money, hand over hand,
and he always signs his mark. Got nine sons can t a
soul of them read or write, more than I. I tell you,
there s nothing ever comes of this yer laming. It s all
a sell a regular Yankee hoax! I ve always got cheated
by them damn reading, writing Yankees, whenever I ve
traded with em. What s the good, I want to know!
You was teached how to read when you was young
much good it s ever done you! "
" Sure enough ! Sick day and night, moving about from
place to place, sick baby crying, and not knowing what to
do for it no more than a child! Oh, I hope Fanny will
learn something! It seems to me, if there was some
school for my children to go to, or some church, or some
thing now, if there is any such place as heaven, I
should like to have them get to it."
"Ah! bah! Don t bother about that! When we get
keeled up, that will be the last of us! Come, come, don t
plague a fellow any more with such talk! I m tired, and
I m going to sleep." And the man, divesting himself of
his overcoat, threw himself on the bed, and was soon snor
ing heavily in profound slumber.
Tiff, who had been trotting the baby by the fire, now
came softly to the bedside, and sat down.
"Miss Sue," he said, "it s no count talking to him!
I don t mean nothing dis pectful, Miss Sue, but de fac is,
dem dat isn t born gentlemen can t be spected fur to see
through dese yer things like us of de old families. Law,
missis, don t you worry! Now, jest leave dis yer matter
to old Tiff! Dere never wasn t anything Tiff couldn t
do, if he tried. He ! he ! he ! Miss Fanny, she done got
de letters right smart; and I know I ll come it round
mas r, and make him buy de books for her. I 11 tell you
what s come into my head, to-day. There s a young lady
come to de big plantation, up dere, who s been to New
118 DEED
York getting edicated, and I s going for to ask her about
dese yer things. And about de chil en s going to church,
and dese yer things, why, preaching, you know, is mazin
unsartain round here; but I 11 keep on de lookout, and do
de best I can. Why, Lord, Miss Sue, I s bound for the
land of Canaan, myself, the best way I ken; and I m
sartain I sha n t go without taking the chil en along with
me. Ho! ho! ho! Dat s what I sha n t! De chil en
will have to be with Tiff, and Tiff will have to be with
the chil en, wherever dey is! Dat sit! He! he! he!"
"Tiff," said the young woman, her large blue eyes look
ing at him, " I have heard of the Bible. Have you ever
seen one, Tiff?"
"Oh yes, honey, dar was a big Bible that your ma
brought in the family when she married; but dat ar was
tore up to make wadding for de guns, one thing or another,
and dey never got no more. But I s been very serving,
and kept my ears open in a camp-meeting, and such places,
and I s learnt right smart of de things that s in it."
"Now, Tiff, can you say anything?" said she, fixing
her large, troubled eyes on him.
"Well, honey, dere s one thing the man said at de last
camp-meeting. He preached bout it, and I couldn t
make out a word he said, cause I ain t smart about preach
ing like I be about most things. But he said dis yer so
often that I couldn t help member it. Says he, it was
dish yer way : Come unto me, all ye that labor and are
heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
" Rest, rest, rest ! " said the woman thoughtfully, and
drawing a long sigh. "Oh, how much I want it! Did
he say that was in the Bible 1 "
"Yes, he said so; and I spects, by all he said, it s de
good man above dat says it. It always makes me feel
better to think on it. It peared like it was jist what I
was wanting to hear."
OLD TIFF 119
" And I, too ! " she said, turning her head wearily, and
closing her eyes. "Tiff," she said, opening them, "where
I m going, maybe I shall meet the one who said that,
and I 11 ask him about it. Don t talk to me more, now.
I m getting sleepy. I thought I was better a little while
after he came home, but I m more tired yet. Put the
baby in my arms I like the feeling of it. There, there ;
now give me rest please do ! " and she sank into a deep
and quiet slumber.
Tiff softly covered the fire, and sat down by the bed,
watching the nickering shadows as they danced upward on
the wall, listening to the heavy sighs of the pine-trees and
the hard breathing of the sleeping man. Sometimes he
nodded sleepily, and then, recovering, rose, and took a
turn to awaken himself. A shadowy sense of fear fell
upon him; not that he apprehended anything, for he
regarded the words of his mistress only as the forebodings
of a wearied invalid. The idea that she could actually
die, and go anywhere, without him to take care of her,
seemed never to have occurred to him. About midnight,
as if a spirit had laid its hand upon him, his eyes flew
wide open with a sudden start. Her thin, cold hand was
lying on his; her eyes, large and blue, shone with a sin
gular and spiritual radiance.
"Tiff," she gasped, speaking with difficulty, "I ve seen
the one that said that, and it s all true, too! and I ve
seen all why I ve suffered so much. He He He is
going to take me ! Tell the children about Him ! " There
was a fluttering sigh, a slight shiver, and the lids fell over
the eyes forever.
CHAPTER IX
THE DEATH
DEATH is always sudden. However gradual may be its
approaches, it is, in its effects upon the survivor, always
sudden at last. Tiff thought, at first, that his mistress
was in a fainting-fit, and tried every means to restore her.
It was affecting to see him chafing the thin, white, pearly
hands, in his large, rough, black paws; raising the head
upon his arm, and calling in a thousand tones of fond en
dearment, pouring out a perfect torrent of loving devotion
on the cold, unheeding ear. But then, spite of all he
could do, the face settled itself, and the hands would not
be warmed; the thought of death struck him suddenly,
and throwing himself on the floor by the bed, he wept
with an exceeding loud and bitter cry. Something in his
heart revolted against awakening that man who lay heavily
breathing by her side. He would not admit to himself, at
this moment, that this man had any right in her, or that
the sorrow was any part of his sorrow. But the cry awoke
Cripps, who sat up bewildered in bed, clearing the hair
from his eyes with the back of his hand.
" Tiff, what the durned are you howling about ? "
Tiff got up in a moment, and swallowing down his grief
and his tears, pointed indignantly to the still figure on the
bed.
"Dar! dar! Wouldn t b lieve her last night! Now
what you think of dat ar? See how you look now!
Good Shepherd hearn you abusing de poor lamb, and he s
done took her whar you 11 never see her again ! "
THE DEATH 121
Cripps had, like coarse, animal men generally, a stupid
and senseless horror of death ; he recoiled from the life
less form, and sprang from the bed with an expression of
horror.
"Well, now, who would have thought it?" he said.
"That I should be in bed with a corpse! I hadn t the
least idea ! "
"No, dat s plain enough, you didn t! You ll believe
it now, won t you? Poor little lamb, lying here suffer
ing all alone! I tell you, when folks have been sick so
long, dey has to die to make folks believe anything ails
em!"
"Well, really," said Cripps, "this is really why, it
ain t comfortable! darned if it is! Why, I m sorry about
the gal! I meant to steam her up, or done something
with her. What s we to do now 1 "
"Pretty likely you don t know! Folks like you, dat
never tends to nothing good, is always flustered when de
Master knocks at de do ! / knows what to do, though.
I s boun to get up de crittur, and go up to de old planta
tion, and bring down a woman and do something for her,
kind of decent. You mind the chil en till I come back."
Tiff took down and drew on over his outer garment a
coarse, light, woolen coat, with very long skirts and large
buttons, in which he always arrayed himself in cases of
special solemnity. Stopping at the door before he went
out, he looked over Cripps from head to foot, with an air
of patronizing and half -pitiful contempt, and delivered
himself as follows :
"Now, mas r, I s gwine up, and will be back quick as
possible; and now do pray be decent, and let dat ar whis
key alone for one day in your life, and member death,
judgment, and ternity. Just act, now, as if you d got a
streak of something in you such as a man ought for to
have who is married to one of de very fustest families in
122 DEED
old Virginny. Fleet, now, on your latter end; maybe
will do your poor old soul some good; and don t you go
for to waking up the chil en before I gets back. They 11
learn de trouble soon enough."
Cripps listened to this oration with a stupid, bewildered
stare, gazing first at the bed, and then at the old man,
who was soon making all the speed he could towards
Canema.
Nina was not habitually an early riser, but on this morn
ing she had awaked with the first peep of dawn, and find
ing herself unable to go to sleep again, she had dressed
herself, and gone down to the garden. She was walking
up and down in one of the alleys, thinking over the per
plexities of her own affairs, when her ear was caught by
the wild and singular notes of one of those tunes commonly
used among the slaves as dirges. The words " She ar dead
and gone to heaven " seemed to come floating down upon
her; and though the voice was cracked and strained, there
was a sort of wildness and pathos in it, which made a sin
gular impression in the perfect stillness of everything
around her. She soon observed a singular-looking vehicle
appearing in the avenue.
This wagon, which was no other than the establishment
of Cripps, drew Nina s attention, and she went to the
hedge to look at it. Tiff s watchful eye immediately fell
upon her, and driving up to where she was standing, he
climbed out upon the ground, and lifting his hat, made
her a profound obeisance, and "hope,d de young lady was
bery well, dis morning."
"Yes, quite well, thank you, uncle," said Nina, regard
ing him curiously.
"We s in fliction to our house!" said Tiff solemnly.
"Dere s been a midnight cry dere, and poor Miss Sue
(dat s my young missis), she s done gone home."
" Who is your mistress ? "
THE DEATH 123
"Well, her name was Seymour fore she married, and
her ma come from de Virginny Pey tons, great family,
dem Peytons ! She was so misf ortunate as to get married,
as gals will, sometimes, 7 said Tiff, speaking in a confiden
tial tone. "The man wa n t no count, and she s had a
drefful hard way to travel, poor thing! and dere she s
a-lying at last stretched out dead, and not a woman nor
nobody to do de least thing; and please, missis, Tiff
corned for to see if de young lady would n t send a woman
for to do for her getting her ready for a funeral. "
" And who are you, pray ? "
"Please, missis, I s Tiff Peyton, I is. I s raised in
Virginny, on de great Peyton place, and I s gin to Miss
Sue s mother; and when Miss Sue married dis yer man,
dey was all fended, and wouldn t speak to her; but I
tuck up for her, cause what s de use of makin a bad
thing worse? I s a pinion, and telled em, dat he
oughter be couraged to behave hisself, seein the thing was
done, and could n t be helped. But no, dey wouldn t; so
I jest tells em, says I, You may do jis you please, but old
Tiff s a-gwine with her, says I. I 11 follow Miss Sue
to de grave s mouth, says I; and ye see I has done it. 7
"Well done of you! I like you better for it," said
Nina. "You just drive up to the kitchen, there, and tell
Rose to give you some breakfast, while I go up to Aunt
Nesbit."
"No, thank you, Miss Nina, I s noways hungry.
Pears like, when a body s like as I be, swallerin down,
and all de old times risin in der throat all de time, dey
can t eat; dey gets filled all up to der eyes with feelin s.
Lord, Miss Nina, I hope ye won t never know what tis
to stand outside de gate, when de best friend you ve got s
gone in; it s hard, dat ar is!" And Tiff pulled out a
decayed-looking handkerchief, and applied it under his
spectacles.
124 DRED
"Well, wait a minute, Tiff." And Nina ran into the
house, while Tiff gazed mournfully after her.
"Well, Lor; just de way Miss Sue used to run trip,
trip, trip! little feet like mice! Lord s will be done!"
" Oh, Milly ! " said Nina, meeting Milly in the entry,
"here you are. Here s a poor fellow waiting out by the
hedge, his mistress dead all alone in the house, with chil
dren, no woman to do for them. Can t you go down?
you could do so well! You know how better than any
one else in the house."
"Why, that must be poor old Tiff ! " said Milly; "faith
ful old creature! So that poor woman s gone, at last? the
better for her, poor soul! Well, I ll ask Miss Loo if I
may go or you ask her, Miss Nina."
A quick, imperative tap on her door startled Aunt Nes-
bit, who was standing at her toilet, finishing her morning s
dressing operations.
Mrs. Nesbit was a particularly systematic early riser.
Nobody knew why; only folks who have nothing to do
are often the most particular to have the longest possible
time to do it in.
"Aunt," said Nina, "there s a poor fellow, out here,
whose mistress is just dead, all alone in the house, and
wants to get some woman to go there to help. Can t you
spare Milly ? "
"Milly was going to clear-starch my caps, this morning,"
said Aunt Nesbit. "I have arranged everything with
reference to it, for a week past."
" Well, aunt, can t she do it to-morrow, or next day,
just as well ? "
"To-morrow she is going to rip up that black dress, and
wash it. I am always systematic, and have everything
arranged beforehand. Should like very much to do any
thing I could, if it wasn t for that. Why can t you send
Aunt Katy ? "
THE DEATH 125
"Why, aunt, you know we are to have company to din
ner, and Aunt Katy is the only one who knows where
anything is, or how to serve things out to the cook. Be
sides, she s so hard and cross to poor people, I don t think
she would go. I don t see, I m sure, in such a case as
this, why you couldn t put your starching off. Milly is
such a kind, motherly, experienced person, and they are in
affliction."
"Oh, these low families don t mind such things much,"
said Aunt Nesbit, fitting on her cap quietly; "they never
have much feeling. There s no use doing for them
they are miserable poor creatures."
"Aunt Nesbit, do, now, as a favor to me! I don t
often ask favors," said Nina. "Do let Milly go! she s
just the one wanted. Do, now, say yes ! " And Nina
pressed nearer, and actually seemed to overpower her slow-
feeling, torpid relative with the vehemence that sparkled
in her eyes.
"Well, I don t care, if"
"There, Milly, she says yes!" said she, springing out
the door. " She says you may. Now, hurry ; get things
ready. I 11 run and have Aunt Katy put up biscuits and
things for the children; and you get all that you know
you will want, and be off quick, and I 11 have the pony
got up, and come on behind you."
CHAPTER X
THE PREPARATION
THE excitement produced by the arrival of Tiff, and the
fitting out of Milly to the cottage, had produced a most
favorable diversion in Nina s mind from her own especial
perplexities. Active and buoyant, she threw herself at
once into whatever happened to come uppermost on the
tide of events. So, having seen the wagon dispatched,
she sat down to breakfast in high spirits.
"Aunt Nesbit, I declare I was so interested in that old
man! I intend to have the pony, after breakfast, and ride
over there."
"I thought you were expecting company."
"Well, that s one reason, now, why I d like to be off.
Do I want to sit all primmed up, smiling and smirking,
and running to the window to see if my gracious lord is
coming 1 ? No, I won t do that, to please any of them. If
I happen to fancy to be out riding, I will be out riding."
"I think," said Aunt Nesbit, "that the hovels of these
miserable creatures are no proper place for a young lady of
your position in life."
"My position in life! I don t see what that has to do
with it. My position in life enables me to do anything
I please a liberty which I take pretty generally. And
then, really, I couldn t help feeling rather sadly about it,
because that Old Tiff, there (I believe that s his name),
told me that the woman had been of a good Virginia fam
ily. Very likely she may have been just such another
wild girl as I am, and thought as little about bad times,
THE PREPARATION 127
and of dying, as I do. So I couldn t help feeling sad for
her. It really came over me when I was walking in the
garden. Such a beautiful morning as it was the birds
all singing, and the dew all glittering and shining on the
flowers! Why, aunt, the flowers really seemed alive; it
seemed as though I could hear them breathing, and hear
their hearts beating like mine. And, all of a sudden, I
heard the most wild, mournful singing, over in the woods.
It was n t anything very beautiful, you know, but it was
so wild, and strange ! She is dead and gone to heaven !
she is dead and gone to heaven ! And pretty soon I
saw the funniest old wagon I don t know what to call it
and this queer old black man in it, with an old white
hat and surtout on, and a pair of great, funny-looking
spectacles on his nose. I went to the fence to see who he
was; and he came up and spoke to me, made the most
respectful bow you ought to have seen it ! And then,
poor fellow, he told me how his mistress was lying dead,
with the children around her, and nobody in the house!
The poor old creature, he actually cried, and I felt so for
him! He seemed to be proud of his dead mistress, in
spite of her poverty."
" Where do they live 1 " said Mrs. Nesbit.
"Why, he told me over in the pine woods, near the
swamp. "
"Oh," said Mrs. Nesbit, "I dare say it s that Cripps
family, that s squatted in the pine woods. A most miser
able set all of them liars and thieves ! If I had known
who it was, I m sure I should n t have let Milly go over.
Such families oughtn t to be encouraged; there oughtn t
a thing to be done for them; we shouldn t encourage them
to stay in the neighborhood. They always will steal from
off the plantations, and corrupt the negroes, and get drunk,
and everything else that s bad. There s never a woman
of decent character among them, that ever I heard of; and
128 DEED
if you were my daughter, I shouldn t let you go near
them."
"Well, I m not your daughter, thank fortune!" said
Nina, whose graces always rapidly declined in controversies
with her aunt, "and so I shall do as I please. And I
don t know what you pious people talk so for; for Christ
went with publicans and sinners, I m sure."
"Well," said Aunt Nesbit, "the Bible says we mustn t
cast pearls before swine; and when you ve lived to be as
old as I am, you 11 know more than you do now. Every
body knows that you can t do anything with these people.
You can t give them Bibles nor tracts, for they can t read.
I ve tried it, sometimes, visiting them, and talking to
them; but it didn t do them any good. I always thought
there ought to be a law passed to make em all slaves, and
then there would be somebody to take care of them."
"Well, I can t see," said Nina, "how it s their fault.
There isn t any school where they could send their chil
dren, if they wanted to learn ; and then, if they want to
work, there s nobody who wants to hire them. So what
can they do 1 "
"I m sure I don t know," said Aunt Nesbit, in that
tone which generally means "I don t care." "All I know
is, that I want them to get away from the neighborhood.
Giving to them is just like putting into a bag with holes.
I m sure I put myself to a great inconvenience on their
account to-day; for if there s anything I do hate, it is
having things irregular. And to-day is the day for clear
starching the caps and such a good, bright, sunny day !
and to-morrow, or any other day of the week, it may
rain. Always puts me all out to have things that I ve
laid out to do put out of their regular order. I d been
willing enough to have sent over some old things; but
why they must needs take Milly s time, just as if the
funeral couldn t have got ready without her! These fu-
THE PREPARATION 129
nerals are always miserable drunken times with them!
And then, who knows, she may catch the smallpox, or
something or other. There s never any knowing what
these people die of."
"They die of just such things as we do," said Nina.
"They have that in common with us, at any rate."
"Yes; but there s no reason for risking our lives, as I
know of especially for such people when it don t do
any good."
"Why, aunt, what do you know against these folks?
Have you ever known of their doing anything wicked 1 "
"Oh, I don t know that I know anything against this
family in particular; but I know the whole race. These
squatters I ve known them ever since I was a girl in
Virginia. Everybody that knows anything knows exactly
what they are. There isn t any help for them, unless, as
I said before, they were made slaves; and then they could
be kept decent. You may go to see them, if you like,
but /don t want my arrangements to be interfered with on
their account."
Mrs. Nesbit was one of those quietly persisting people
whose yielding is like the stretching of an india-rubber
band, giving way only to a violent pull, and going back to
the same place \vhen the force is withdrawn. She seldom
refused favors that were urged with any degree of impor
tunity; not because her heart was touched, but simply be
cause she seemed not to have force enough to refuse; and
whatever she granted was always followed by a series of
subdued lamentations over the necessity which had wrung
them from her.
Nina s nature was so vehement and imperious, when
excited, that it was a disagreeable fatigue to cross her.
Mrs. Nesbit, therefore, made amends by bemoaning herself
as we have seen. Nina started up hastily, on seeing her
pony brought round to the door; and soon arrayed in her
VOL. i.
130 DRED
riding-dress, she was cantering through the pine woods in
high spirits. The day was clear and beautiful. The floor
of the woodland path was paved with a thick and cleanly
carpet of the fallen pine leaves. And Harry was in attend
ance with her, mounted on another horse, and riding but
a very little behind; not so much so but what his mistress
could, if she would, keep up a conversation with him.
"You know this Old Tiff, Harry P>
"Oh yes, very well. A very good, excellent creature,
and very much the superior of his master, in most re
spects. "
"Well, he says his mistress came of a good family."
"I shouldn t wonder," said Harry. "She always had
a delicate appearance, very different from people in their
circumstances generally. The children, too, are remark
ably pretty, well-behaved children; and it s a pity they
could n t be taught something, and not grow up and go on
the miserable ways of these poor whites ! "
"Why don t anybody ever teach them? " said Nina.
"Well, Miss Nina, you know how it is: everybody has
his own work and business to attend to there are no
schools for them to go to there s no work for them to
do. In fact, there don t seem to be any place for them
in society. Boys generally grow up to drink and swear.
And as for girls, they are of not much account. So it
goes on from generation to generation."
" This is so strange, and so different from what it is in
the northern states ! Why, all the children go to school
there the very poorest people s children! Why, a great
many of the first men, there, were poor children! Why
can t there be some such thing here 1 ? "
"Oh, because people are settled in such a scattering way
they can t have schools. All the land that s good for any
thing is taken up for large estates. And then, these poor
folks that are scattered up and down in between, it s
THE PREPARATION 131
nobody s business to attend to them, and they can t attend
to themselves; and so they grow up, and nobody knows
how they live, and everybody seems to think it a pity they
are in the world. I ve seen those sometimes that would
be glad to do something, if they could find anything to do.
Planters don t want them on their places they d rather
have their own servants. If one of them wants to be a
blacksmith, or a carpenter, there s no encouragement.
Most of the large estates have their own carpenters and
blacksmiths. And there s nothing for them to do, unless
it is keeping dogs to hunt negroes; or these little low
stores where they sell whiskey, and take what s stolen
from the plantations. Sometimes a smart one gets a place
as overseer on a plantation. Why, I ve heard of their
coming so low as actually to sell their children to traders,
to get a bit of bread."
"What miserable creatures! But do you suppose it can
be possible that a woman of any respectable family can
have married a man of this sort ? "
"Well, I don t know, Miss Nina; that might be. You
see, good families sometimes degenerate; and when they
get too poor to send their children off to school, or keep
any teachers for them, they run down very fast. This
man is not bad looking, and he really is a person who, if
he had had any way opened to him, might have been a
smart man, and made something of himself and family;
and when he was young and better looking, I should n t
wonder if an uneducated girl, who had never been off a
plantation, might have liked him; he was fully equal, I
dare say, to her brothers. You see, Miss Nina, when
money goes, in this part of the country, everything goes
with it; and when a family is not rich enough to have
everything in itself, it goes down very soon."
"At any rate, I pity the poor things," said Nina. "I
don t despise them, as Aunt Nesbit does."
132 DEED
Here Nina, observing the path clear and uninterrupted
for some distance under the arching pines, struck her horse
into a canter, and they rode on for some distance without
speaking. Soon the horse s feet splashed and pattered on
the cool, pebbly bottom of a small, shallow stream, which
flowed through the woods. This stream went meandering
among the pines like a spangled ribbon, sometimes tying
itself into loops, leaving open spots almost islands of
green graced by its waters. Such a little spot now
opened to the view of the two travelers. It was some
thing less than a quarter of an acre in extent, entirely
surrounded by the stream, save only a small neck of about
four feet, which connected it to the mainland.
Here a place had been cleared and laid off into a garden,
which, it was evident, was carefully tended. The log
cabin which stood in the middle was far from having the
appearance of wretchedness which Nina had expected. It
was almost entirely a dense mass of foliage, being covered
with the intermingled drapery of the Virginia creeper and
the yellow jessamine. Two little borders, each side of the
house, were blooming with flowers. Around the little
island the pine-trees closed in unbroken semicircle, and
the brook meandered away through them, to lose itself
eventually in that vast forest of swampy land which girdles
the whole Carolina shore. The whole air of the place was
so unexpectedly inviting, in its sylvan stillness and beauty,
that Nina could not help checking her horse, and exclaim
ing,
"I m sure, it s a pretty place. They can t be such
very forsaken people, after all."
"Oh, that s all Tiff s work," said Harry. "He takes
care of everything outside and in, while the man is off
after nobody knows what. You d be perfectly astonished
to see how that old creature manages. He sews, and he
knits, and works the garden, does the housework, and
THE PREPARATION 133
teaches the children. It s a fact! You ll notice that
they have n t the pronunciation or the manners of these
wild white children; and I take it to be all Tiff s watch
fulness, for that creature has n t one particle of selfishness
in him. He just identifies himself with his mistress and
her children."
By this time Tiff had perceived their approach, and
came out to assist them in dismounting.
"De Lord above bless you, Miss Gordon, for coming to
see my poor missis ! Ah ! she is lying dere just as beauti
ful, just as she was the very day she was married! All
her young looks come back to her; and Milly, she done
laid her out beautiful! Lord, I s wanting somebody to
come and look at her, because she has got good blood, if she
be poor. She is none of your common sort of poor whites,
Miss Nina. Just come in; come in, and look at her."
Nina stepped into the open door of the hut. The bed
was covered with a clean white sheet, and the body,
arrayed in a long white night-dress brought by Milly, lay
there so very still, quiet, and lifelike, that one could
scarcely realize the presence of death. The expression of
exhaustion, fatigue, and anxiety, which the face had lat
terly worn, had given place to one of tender rest, shaded
by a sort of mysterious awe, as if the closed eyes were
looking on unutterable things. The soul, though sunk
below the horizon of existence, had thrown back a twilight
upon the face radiant as that of the evening heavens.
By the head of the bed the little girl was sitting, dressed
carefully, and her curling hair parted in front, apparently
fresh from the brush; and the little boy was sitting beside
her, his round blue eyes bearing an expression of subdued
wonder.
Cripps was sitting at the foot of the bed, evidently
much the worse for liquor; for spite of the exhortation of
Tiff, he had applied to the whiskey-jug immediately on
134 DEED
his departure. Why not 1 He was uncomfortable
gloomy; and every one, under such circumstances, natu
rally inclines towards some source of consolation. He
who is intellectual reads and studies; he who is industri
ous flies to business; he who is affectionate seeks friends;
he who is pious, religion ; but he who is none of these
what has he but his whiskey? Cripps made a stupid,
staring inclination toward Nina and Harry, as they entered,
and sat still, twirling his thumbs and muttering to himself.
The sunshine fell through the panes on the floor, and
there came floating in from without the odor of flowers
and the song of birds. All the Father s gentle messengers
spoke of comfort ; but he as a deaf man heard not as a
blind man did not regard. For the rest, an air of neatness
had been imparted to the extreme poverty of the room by
the joint efforts of Milly and Tiff.
Tiff entered softly, and stood by Nina, as she gazed.
He had in his hand several sprays of white jessamine, and
he laid one on the bosom of the dead.
"She had a hard walk of it," he said, "but she s got
home! Don t she look peaceful? poor lamb!"
The little, thoughtless, gay coquette had never looked
on a sight like this before. She stood with a fixed, tender
thoughtfulness, unlike her usual gayety, her riding-hat
hanging carelessly by its strings from her hands, her loose
hair drooping over her face. She heard some one entering
the cottage, but she did not look up. She was conscious
of some one looking over her shoulder, and thought it was
Harry.
"Poor thing! how young she looks," she said, "to have
had so much trouble ! " Her voice trembled, and a tear
stood in her eye. There was a sudden movement; she
looked up, and Clayton was standing by her.
She looked surprised, and the color deepened in her
cheek, but was too ingenuously and really in sympathy
THE PREPARATION 135
with the scene before her even to smile. She retained his
hand a moment, and turned to the dead, saying, in an
undertone, "See here!"
" I see, " he said. " Can I be of service 1 "
"The poor thing died last night," said Nina. "I sup
pose some one might help about a funeral. Harry," she
said, walking softly towards the door, and speaking low,
"you provide a coffin; have it made neatly."
"Uncle," she said, motioning Tiff towards her, "where
would they have her buried ? "
"Buried?" said Tiff. "0 Lord! buried!" And he
covered his face with his hard hands, and the tears ran
through his fingers.
" Lord, Lord ! Well, it must come, I know, but pears
like I couldn t! Laws, she s so beautiful! Don t, to
day! don t!"
"Indeed, uncle," said Nina tenderly, "I m sorry I
grieved you; but you know, poor fellow, that must come."
"I s known her ever since she s dat high! " said Tiff.
"Her har was curly, and she used to war such pretty red
shoes, and come running after me in de garden. * Tiff,
Tiff, she used to say and dar she is now, and troubles
brought her dar! Lord, what a pretty gal she was!
Pretty as you be, Miss Nina. But since she married dat
ar," pointing with his thumb over his shoulder, and
speaking confidentially, "everything went wrong. I s
held her up did all I could ; and now here she is ! "
"Perhaps," said Nina, laying her hand on his, "perhaps
she s in a better place than this."
" Oh, Lord, dat she is ! She told me dat when she died.
She saw de Lord at last, she did so! Dem s her last
words. Tiff, she says, I see Him, and He will give
me rest. Tiff, she says, I d been asleep, you know,
and I kinder felt something cold on my hand, and I woke
up right sudden, and dar she was, her eyes so bright, look-
136 DEED
ing at me and breathing so hard; and all she says was,
Tiff, I ve seen Him, and I know now why I ve suffered
so; He s gwine to take me, and give me rest! ;
"Then, my poor fellow, you ought to rejoice that she is
safe."
"Deed I does," said Tiff; "yet I s selfish. I wants
to be dere too, I does only I has de chil en to care for."
"Well, my good fellow," said Nina, "we must leave
you now. Harry will see about a coffin for your poor
mistress; and whenever the funeral is to be, our carriage
will come over, and we will all attend."
"Lord bless you, Miss Gordon! Dat ar too good on
ye! My heart s been most broke, linking nobody cared
for my poor young mistress! you s too good, dat you is! "
Then drawing near to her, and sinking his voice, he
said: " Bout de mourning, Miss Nina. He ain t no
count, you know body can see how tis with him very
plain. But missis was a Peyton, you know; and I s a
Peyton, too. I naturally feels a sponsibility he couldn t
be spected fur to. I s took de ribbons off of Miss
Fanny s bonnet, and done de best I could trimming it up
with black crape what Milly gave me; and I s got a band
of black crape on Master Teddy s hat; and I lowed to put
one on mine, but there wasn t quite enough. You know,
missis, old family servants always wars mourning. If
missis just be pleased to look over my work! Now, dis
yer is Miss Fanny s bonnet. You know I can t be spected
for to make it like a milliner."
" They are very well indeed, Uncle Tiff. "
"Perhaps, Miss Nina, you can kind of touch it over."
"Oh, if you like, Uncle Tiff, I ll take them all home,
and do them for you."
"The Lord bless you, Miss Gordon! Dat ar was just
what I wanted, but was most fraid to ask you. Some
gay young ladies doesn t like to handle black."
THE PREPARATION 137
"Ah! Uncle Tiff, I ve no fears of that sort; so put it
in the wagon, and let Milly take it home." So saying,
she turned and passed out of the door where Harry was
standing holding the horses. A third party might have
seen, by the keen, rapid glance with which his eye rested
upon Clayton, that he was measuring the future probability
which might make him the arbiter of his own destiny
the disposer of all that was dear to him in life. As for
Nina, although the day before a thousand fancies and
coquetries would have colored the manner of her meeting
Clayton, yet now she was so impressed by what she had
witnessed, that she scarcely appeared to know that she had
met him. She placed her pretty foot on his hand, and
let him lift her on to the saddle, scarcely noticing the act,
except by a serious, graceful inclination of her head.
One great reason of the ascendency which Clayton had
thus far gained over her was that his nature, so quiet,
speculative, and undemonstrative, always left her such
perfect liberty to follow the more varying moods of her
own. A man of a different mould would have sought to
awake her out of the trance would have remarked on her
abstracted manner, or rallied her on her silence. Clayton
merely mounted his horse and rode quietly by her side,
w r hile Harry, passing on before them, was soon out of
sight.
CHAPTER XI
THE LOVERS
THEY rode on in silence, till their horses feet again
clattered in the clear, pebbly water of the stream. Here
Nina checked her horse, and pointing round the circle of
pine forests, and up the stream, overhung with bending
trees and branches, said:
"Hush! listen! " Both stopped, and heard the sway
ing of the pine-trees, the babble of the waters, the cawing
of distant crows, and the tapping of the woodpecker.
"How beautiful everything is!" she said. "It seems
to me so sad that people must die ! I never saw anybody
dead before, and you don t know how it makes me feel!
To think that that poor woman was just such a girl as I
am, and used to be just so full of life, and never thought
any more than I do that she should lie there all cold and
dead! Why is it things are made so beautiful, if we must
die 1 "
"Remember what you said to the old man, Miss Nina.
Perhaps she sees more beautiful things now."
"In heaven 1 ? Yes; I wish we knew more about
heaven, so that it would seem natural and homelike to us,
as this world does. As for me, I can t feel that I ever
want to leave this world I enjoy living so much! I
can t forget how cold her hand was! I never felt anything
like that cold !
In all the varying moods of Nina, Clayton had never
seen anything that resembled this. But he understood the
peculiar singleness and earnestness of nature which made
THE LOVERS 139
any one idea, or impression, for a time absolute in her
mind. They turned their horses into the woodpath, and
rode on in silence.
"Do you know," said she, "it s such a change coming
from New York to live here 1 Everything is so unformed,
so wild, and so lonely ! I never saw anything so lonesome
as these woods are. Here you can ride miles and miles,
hours and hours, and hear nothing but the swaying of the
pine-trees, just as you hear it now. Our place (you never
were there, were you ?) stands all by itself, miles from any
other; and I ve been for so many years used to a thickly
settled country that it seems very strange to me. I can t
help thinking things look rather deserted and desolate,
here. It makes me rather sober and sad. I don t know
as you 11 like the appearance of our place. A great many
things are going to decay about it; and yet there are some
things that can t decay; for papa was very fond of trees
and shrubbery, and we have a good deal more of them
than usual. Are you fond of trees 1 "
"Yes; I m almost a tree-worshiper. I have no respect
for a man who can t appreciate a tree. The only good
thing I ever heard of Xerxes was, that he was so trans
ported with the beauty of a plane-tree, that he hung it
with chains of gold. This is a little poetical island in the
barbarism of those days."
"Xerxes!" said Nina. "I believe I studied something
about him in that dismal, tedious history at Mme. Ar-
daine s; but nothing so interesting as that, I m sure. But
what should he hang gold chains on a tree for ? "
" Twas the best way he knew of expressing his good
opinion. "
"Do you know," said Nina, half checking her horse
suddenly, "that I never had the least idea that these men
were alive that we read about in these histories, or that
they had any feelings like ours ? We always studied the
140 DRED
lessons, and learnt the hard names, and how forty thou
sand were killed on one side, and fifty thousand on the
other; and we don t know any more about it than if we
never had. That s the way we girls studied at school,
except a few poky ones, who wanted to be learned, or
meant to be teachers."
"An interesting resume, certainly," said Clayton, laugh
ing.
"But how strange it is," said Nina, "to think that all
those folks we read about are alive now, doing something
somewhere; and I get to wondering where they are
Xerxes, and Alexander, and the rest of them. Why, they
were so full of life they kept everything in commotion
while in this world; and I wonder if they have been keep
ing a-going ever since. Perhaps Xerxes has been looking
round at our trees nobody knows. But here we are
coming now to the beginning of our grounds. There, you
see that holly hedge! Mamma had that set out. She
traveled in England, and liked the hedges there so much
that she thought she would see what could be done with
our American holly. So she had these brought from the
woods, and planted. You see it all grows wild, now,
because it hasn t been cut for many years. And this live-
oak avenue my grandfather set out. It s my pride and
delight."
As she spoke, a pair of broad gates swung open, and
they cantered in beneath the twilight arches of the oaks.
Long wreaths of pearly moss hung swinging from the
branches, and although the sun now was at high noon, a
dewy, dreamy coolness seemed to rustle through all the
leaves. As Clayton passed in, he took off his hat, as he
had often done in foreign countries in cathedrals.
" Welcome to Canema ! " said she, riding up to him,
and looking up frankly into his face.
The air, half queenly, half childish, with which this
THE LOVERS 141
was said, was acknowledged by Clayton with a grave smile,
as he replied, bowing,
"Thank you, madam."
"Perhaps," she added in a grave tone, "you ll be sorry
that you ever came here."
"What do you mean by that?" he replied.
"I don t know; it just came into my head to say it.
We none of us ever know what s going to come of what
we do."
At this instant, a violent clamor, like the cawing of a
crow, rose on one side of the avenue; and the moment
after Tomtit appeared, caracoling, and cutting a somerset;
his curls flying, his cheeks glowing.
"Why, Tomtit, what upon earth is this for?" said
Nina.
"Laws, missis, deres been a gen leman waiting for you
at the house these two hours. And missis she s done got
on her best cap, and gone down in the parlor for him."
Nina felt herself blush to the roots of her hair, and was
vexed and provoked to think she did so. Involuntarily
her eyes met Clayton s. But he expressed neither curios
ity nor concern.
"What a pretty drapery this light moss makes!" said
he. "I wasn t aware that it grew so high up in the
state."
"Yes; it is very pretty," said Nina abstractedly.
Clayton, however, had noticed both the message and
the blush, and was not so ill informed as Nina supposed as
to the whole affair, having heard from a New York corre
spondent of the probability that an arrival might appear
upon the field about this time. He was rather curious to
watch the development produced by this event. They
paced up the avenue, conversing in disconnected intervals,
till they came out on the lawn which fronted the mansion
a large, gray, three-story building, surrounded on the
142 DRED
four sides by wide balconies of wood. Access was had to
the lower of these by a broad flight of steps. And there
Nina saw, plain enough, her Aunt Nesbit in all the pro
prieties of cap and silk gown, sitting, making the agree
able to Mr. Carson.
Mr. Frederic Augustus Carson was one of those nice
little epitomes of conventional society which appear to
such advantage in factitious life, and are so out of place in
the undress, sincere surroundings of country life. Nina
had liked his society extremely well in the drawing-rooms
and opera-houses of New York. But in the train of
thought inspired by the lonely and secluded life she was
now leading, it seemed to her an absolute impossibility
that she could, even in coquetry and in sport, have allowed
such an one to set up pretensions to her hand and heart.
She was vexed with herself that she had done so, and
therefore not in the most amiable mood for a meeting.
Therefore, when, on ascending the steps, he rushed pre
cipitately forward, and, offering his hand, called her Nina,
she was ready to die with vexation. She observed, too,
a peculiar swelling and rustling of Aunt Nesbit s plumage,
an indescribable air of tender satisfaction, peculiar to
elderly ladies who are taking an interest in an affair of the
heart, which led her to apprehend that the bachelor had
commenced operations by declaring his position to her.
T was with some embarrassment that Nina introduced
Mr. Clayton, whom Aunt Nesbit received with a most
stately curtsy,, and Mr. Carson with a patronizing bow;
"Mr. Carson has been waiting for you these two hours,"
said Aunt Nesbit.
"Very warm riding, Nina," said Mr. Carson, observing
her red cheeks. "You ve been riding too fast, I fear.
You must be careful of yourself. I ve known people bring
on very grave illnesses by overheating the blood ! "
Clayton seated himself near the door, and seemed to be
THE LOVERS 143
intent on the scene without. And Carson, drawing his
chair close to Nina, asked, in a confidential undertone,
" Who is that gentleman ? "
"Mr. Clayton, of Claytonville, " said Nina, with as
much hauteur as she could assume.
" Ah, yes ! Hem ! hem ! I ve heard of the family
a very nice family a very worthy young man ex
tremely, I m told. Shall be happy to make his acquaint
ance. "
"I beg," said Nina, rising, "the gentlemen will excuse
me a moment or two."
Clayton replied by a grave bow, while Mr. Carson, with
great empressement, handed Nina to the door. The mo
ment it was closed, she stamped, with anger, in the entry.
"The provoking fool! to take these airs with me! And
I } too I deserve it! What on earth could make me
think I could tolerate that man 1 "
As if Nina s cup were not yet full, Aunt Nesbit followed
her to her chamber with an air of unusual graciousness.
"Nina, my dear, he has told me all about it! and I
assure you I m very much pleased with him! "
" Told you all about what 1 " said Nina.
"Why, your engagement, to be sure! I m delighted to
think you ve done so well! I think your Aunt Maria,
and all of them, will be delighted! Takes a weight of
care off my mind ! "
"I wish you wouldn t trouble yourself about me, or my
affairs, Aunt Nesbit!" said Nina. "And as for this old
pussy-cat, with his squeaking boots, I won t have him
purring round me, that s certain! So provoking, to take
that way towards me ! Call me Nina, and talk as though
he were lord paramount of me, and everything here! I 11
let him know ! "
"Why, Nina! Seems to me this is very strange con
duct ! I am very much astonished at you ! "
144 DEED
"I dare say you are, aunt! I never knew the time I
didn t astonish you! But this man I detest! "
"Well, then, my dear, what were you engaged to him
for?"
"Engaged! Aunt, for pity s sake, do hush! Engaged!
I should like to know what a New York engagement
amounts to ! Engaged at the opera ! Engaged for a
joke! Why, he was my bouquet-holder! The man is
just an opera libretto! He was very useful in his time.
But who wants him afterwards 1 "
"But, my dear Nina, this trifling with gentlemen s
hearts ! "
"I ll warrant his heart! It s neither sugar nor salt,
I 11 assure you. I 11 tell you what, aunt, he loves good
eating, good drinking, nice clothes, nice houses, and good
times generally ! and he wants a pretty wife as a part of
a whole; and he thinks he ll take me. But he is mis
taken. Calling me Nina, indeed ! Just let me have a
chance of seeing him alone! I ll teach him to call me
Nina ! I 11 let him know how things stand! "
"But, Nina, you must confess you ve given him occa
sion for all this."
"Well, supposing I have? I ll give him occasion for
something else, then ! "
"Why, my dear," said Aunt Nesbit, "he came on to
know when you 11 fix the day to be married! "
"Married! Oh, my gracious! Just think of the crea
ture s talking about it! Well, it is my fault, as you say;
but I 11 do the best I can to mend it."
"Well, I m really sorry for him," said Aunt Nesbit.
"You are, aunt? Why don t you take him yourself,
then ? You are as young and good looking as he is. "
"Nina, how you talk!" said Aunt Nesbit, coloring and
bridling. "There was a time when I wasn t bad looking,
to be sure; but that s long since past."
THE LOVEKS 145
"Oh, that s because you always dress in stone-color and
drab," said Nina, as she stood brushing and arranging her
curls. "Come, now, and go down, aunt, and do the best
you can till I make my appearance. After all, as you say,
I m the most to blame. There s no use in being vexed
with the old soul. So, aunt, do be as fascinating as you
can; see if you can t console him. Only remember how
you used to turn off lovers, when you were of my age."
"And who is this other gentleman, Nina?"
"Oh, nothing, only he is a friend of mine. A very
good man good enough for a minister, any day, aunt,
and not so stupid as good people generally are, either."
"Well, perhaps you are engaged to him? "
"No, I am not; that is to say, I won t be to anybody.
This is an insufferable business! I like Mr. Clayton,
because he can let me alone, don t look at me in that
abominably delighted way all the time, and dance about,
calling me Nina ! He and I are very good friends, that s
all. I m not going to have any engagements anywhere."
"Well, Nina, I 11 go down, and you make haste."
While the gentlemen and Aunt Nesbit were waiting in
the saloon, Carson made himself extremely happy and at
home. It was a large, cool apartment, passing, like a
hall, completely through the centre of the house. Long
French window s, at either end, opened on to balconies.
The pillars of the balconies were draped and garlanded
with wreaths of roses now in full bloom. The floor of the
room was the polished mosaic of different colors to which
we have formerly alluded. Over the mantelpiece was
sculptured in oak the Gordon arms. The room was wain
scoted with dark wood, and hung with several fine paint
ings, by Copley and Stuart, of different members of the
family. A grand piano, lately arrived from New York,
was the most modern-looking article in the room. Most
of the furniture was of heavy dark mahogany, of an an-
VOL. I.
146 DRED
tique pattern. Clayton sat by the door, still admiring the
avenue of oaks which were to be seen across the waving
green of the lawn.
In about half an hour Nina reappeared in a flossy cloud
of muslin, lace, and gauzy ribbons. Dress was one of
those accomplishments for which the little gypsy had a
natural instinct; and without any apparent thought, she
always fell into that kind of color and material which
harmonized with her style of appearance and character.
There was always something floating and buoyant about
the arrangement of her garments and drapery ; so that to
see her move across the floor gave one an airy kind of
sensation, like the gambols of thistle-down. Her brown
eyes had a peculiar resemblance to a bird s; and this effect
was increased by a twinkling motion of the head, and a
fluttering habit of movement peculiar to herself; so that
when she swept by in rosy gauzes, and laid one ungloved
hand lightly on the piano, she seemed to Clayton much
like some saucy bird very good indeed if let alone, but
ready to fly on the slightest approach.
Clayton had the rare faculty of taking in every available
point of observation, without appearing to stare.
" Pon my word, Nina," said Mr. Carson, coming towards
her with a most delighted air, "you look as if you had
fallen out of a rainbow ! "
Nina turned away very coolly, and began arranging her
music.
"Oh, that s right! " said Carson; "give us one of your
songs. Sing something from the Tavorita. You know
it s my favorite opera," said he, assuming a most senti
mental expression.
"Oh, I m entirely out of practice I don t sing at all.
I m sick of all those opera-songs!" And Nina skimmed
across the floor, and out of the open door by which Clay
ton was lounging, and began busying herself amid the
THE LOVERS . 147
flowers that wreathed the porch. In a moment Carson
was at her heels; for he was one of those persons who
seem to think it a duty never to allow any one to be quiet,
if they can possibly prevent it.
" Have you ever studied the language of flowers, Nina ? "
said he.
"No, I don t like to study languages."
" You know the signification of a full-blown rose 1 " said
he, tenderly presenting her with one.
Nina took the rose, coloring with vexation, and then,
plucking from the bush a rose of two or three days bloom,
whose leaves were falling out, she handed it to him, and
said,
"Do you understand the signification of this 1 ? "
"Oh, you have made an unfortunate selection! This
rose is all falling to pieces ! " said Mr. Carson innocently.
"So I observed," said Nina, turning away quickly;
then making one of her darting movements, she was in
the middle of the saloon again, just as the waiter an
nounced dinner.
Clayton rose gravely, and offered his arm to Aunt Nes-
bit; and Nina found herself obliged to accept the delighted
escort of Mr. Carson, who, entirely unperceiving, was in
the briskest possible spirits, and established himself com
fortably between Aunt Nesbit and Nina.
"You must find it very dull here very barren coun
try, shockingly so ! What do you find to interest yourself
in 1 " said he.
" Will you take some of this gumbo 1 " replied Nina.
"I always thought," said Aunt Nesbit, "it was a good
plan for girls to have a course of reading marked out to
them when they left school."
"Oh, certainly," said Carson. "I shall be happy to
mark out one for her. I ve done it for several young
ladies."
148 . DEED
At this moment Nina accidentally happened to catch
Clayton s eye, which was fixed upon Mr. Carson with an
air of quiet amusement greatly disconcerting to her.
"Now," said Mr. Carson, "I have no opinion of making
blues of young ladies; but still, I think, Mrs. Nesbit, that
a little useful information adds greatly to their charms.
Don t you? 7
"Yes," said Mrs. Nesbit. "I ve been reading Gib
bon s Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, lately. 7
"Yes, 77 said Nina, "aunt s been busy about that ever
since I can remember. 77
"That s a very nice book, 77 said Mr. Carson, looking
solemnly at Nina; "only, Mrs. Nesbit, ain t you afraid of
the infidel principle? I think, in forming the minds of
the young, you know, one cannot be too careful. 77
" Why, he struck me as a very pious writer ! 77 said Aunt
Nesbit innocently. "I m sure, he makes the most reli
gious reflections, all along. I liked him particularly on
that account."
It seemed to Nina that, without looking at Clayton,
she was forced to meet his eye. No matter whether she
directed her attention to the asparagus or the potatoes, it
was her fatality always to end by a rencounter with his
eye; and she saw, for some reason or other, the conversa
tion was extremely amusing to him.
"For my part," said Nina, "I don t know what sort of
principles Aunt Nesbit s history, there, has; but one thing
I m pretty certain of, that / m not in any danger from
any such thick, close-printed, old, stupid-looking books as
that. I hate reading, and I don t intend to have my mind
formed; so that nobody need trouble themselves to mark
out courses for me ! What is it to me what all these old
empires have been, a hundred years ago ? It is as much
as I can do to attend to what is going on now."
"For my part," said Aunt Nesbit, "I ve always re-
THE LOVERS 149
gretted that I neglected the cultivation of my mind when
I was young. I was like Nina, here, immersed in vanity
and folly."
"People always talk," said Nina, reddening, "as if
there was but one kind of vanity and folly in the world.
I think there can be as much learned vanity and folly as
we girls have ! " And she looked at Clayton indignantly,
as she saw him laughing.
"I agree with Miss Gordon, entirely. There is a great
deal of very stupid respectable trifling, which people pursue
under the head of courses of reading," he said. "And I
don t wonder that most compends of history which are stud
ied in schools should inspire any lively young lady with
a lifelong horror, not only of history, but of reading."
"Do you think so?" said Nina, with a look of inex
pressible relief.
"I do, indeed," said Clayton. "And it would have
been a very good thing for many of our historians if they
had been obliged to have shaped their histories so that
they would interest a lively schoolgirl. We literary men,
then, would have found less sleepy reading. There is no
reason why a young lady, who would sit up all night read
ing a novel, should not be made to sit up all night with
a history. I 11 venture to say there s no romance can
come up to the gorgeousness and splendor, and the dra
matic power, of things that really have happened. All
that s wanting is to have it set before us with an air of
reality."
"But, then," said Nina, "you d have to make the his
tory into a romance."
" Well, a good historical romance is generally truer than
a dull history, because it gives some sort of conception of
the truth, whereas the dull history gives none."
"Well, then," said Nina, "I 11 confess, now, that about
all the history I do know has been got from Walter Scott s
150 DEED
novels. I always told our history teacher so; but she
insisted upon it that it was very dangerous reading."
"For my part," said Mrs. Nesbit, "I ve a great horror
of novel-reading, particularly for young ladies. It did me
a great deal of harm when I was young. It dissipates the
mind; it gives false views of life."
"Oh, law!" said Nina. "We used to write composi
tions about that, and I ve got it all by heart how it
raises false expectations, and leads people to pursue phan
toms, rainbows, and meteors, and all that sort of thing ! "
"And yet," said Clayton, "all these objections would
lie against perfectly true history, and the more so just in
proportion to its truth. If the history of Napoleon Bona
parte were graphically and minutely given, it would lie
open to the very same objections. It would produce the
very same cravings for something -out of the commonplace
course of life. There would be the same dazzling mixture
of bad and good qualities in the hero, and the same lassi
tude and exhaustion after the story was finished. And
common history does not do this, simply because it is not
true does not produce a vivid impression of the reality
as it happened."
Aunt Nesbit only got an indefinite impression, from this
harangue, that Clayton was defending novel-reading, and
felt herself called to employ her own peculiar line of rea
soning to meet it, which consisted in saying the same thing
over and over, at regular intervals, without appearing to
hear or notice anything said in reply. Accordingly, she
now drew herself up, with a slightly virtuous air, and
said to Mr. Clayton,
"I must say, after all, that I don t approve of novel-
reading. It gives false views of life, and disgusts young
people with their duties."
"I was only showing, madam, that the same objection
would apply to the best written history," said Clayton.
THE LOVERS 151
"I think novel-reading does a great deal of harm," re
joined Aunt Nesbit. "I never allow myself to read any
work of fiction. I m principled against it. 7
"For my part," said Nina, "I wish I could find that
kind of history you are speaking of; I believe I could read
that."
" T would be very interesting history, certainly," said
Mr. Carson. "I should think it would prove a very
charming mode of writing. I wonder somebody don t
produce one."
"For my part," said Aunt Nesbit, "I confine myself
entirely to what is practically useful. Useful information
is all I desire."
"Well, I suppose, then, I m very wicked," said Nina;
"but I don t like anything useful. Why, I ve sometimes
thought, when I ve been in the garden, that the summer-
savory, sage, and sweet-marjoram were just as pretty as
many other flowers; and I couldn t see any reason why I
shouldn t like a sprig of one of them for a bouquet, except
that I ve seen them used for stuffing turkeys. Well, now,
that seems very bad of me, don t it? "
"That reminds me," said Aunt Nesbit, "that Eose has
been putting sage into this turkey again, after all that I
said to her. I believe she does it on purpose."
At this moment Harry appeared at the door, and re
quested to speak to Nina.
After a few moments whispered conversation she came
back to the table, apparently disconcerted.
"I m so sorry so very sorry!" she said. "Harry
has been riding all round the country to find a minister to
attend the funeral, this evening. It will be such a disap
pointment to that poor fellow! You know the negroes
think so much of having prayers at the grave ! "
"If no one else can be found to read prayers, I will,"
said Clayton.
152 DEED
"Oh, thank you! will you, indeed?" said Nina.
"I m glad of it, now, for poor Tiff s sake. The coach
will be out at five o clock, and we 11 ride over together,
and make as much of a party as we can."
"Why, child," said Aunt Nesbit to Nina, after they
returned to the parlor, "I did not know that Mr. Clayton
was an Episcopalian."
"He isn t," said Nina. "He and his family all attend
the Presbyterian church."
"How strange that he should offer to read prayers!"
said Aunt Nesbit. "I don t approve of such things, for
my part."
" Such things as what ? "
"Countenancing Episcopal errors. If we are right,
they are wrong, and we ought not to countenance them."
"But, aunt, the burial service is beautiful."
"Don t approve of it! " said Aunt Nesbit.
"Why, you know, as Clayton isn t a minister, he would
not feel like making an extempore prayer."
"Shows great looseness of religious principle," said
Aunt Nesbit. "Don t approve of it! "
CHAPTER XII
EXPLANATIONS
THE golden arrows of the setting sun were shooting
hither and thither through the pine woods, glorifying
whatever they touched with a life not its own. A chorus
of birds were pouring out an evening melody, when a little
company stood around an open grave. With instinctive
care for the feeling of the scene Nina had arrayed herself
in a black silk dress, and plain straw bonnet with black
ribbon a mark of respect to the deceased remembered
and narrated by Tiff for many a year after.
Cripps stood by the head of the grave, with that hope
less, imbecile expression with which a nature wholly gross
and animal often contemplates the symbols of the close of
mortal existence. Tiff stood by the side of the grave, his
white hat conspicuously draped with black crape, and a
deep weed of black upon his arm. The baby, wrapped in
an old black shawl, was closely fondled in his bosom,
while the two children stood weeping bitterly at his side.
The other side of the grave stood Mr. Carson and Mr.
Clayton, while Milly, Harry, and several plantation slaves
were in a group behind.
The coffin had been opened, that all might take that last
look, so coveted, yet so hopeless, which the human heart
will claim on the very verge of the grave. It was but a
moment since the coffin had been closed; and the burst of
grief which shook the children was caused by that last
farewell. As Clayton, in a musical voice, pronounced the
words, "I am the resurrection and the life," Nina wept
154 DEED
and sobbed as if the grief had been her own; nor did she
cease to weep during the whole touching service. It was
the same impulsive nature which made her so gay in other
scenes that made her so sympathetic here. When the
whole was over she kissed the children, and shaking
hands with Old Tiff, promised to come and see them on
the morrow. After which, Clayton led her to the carriage,
into which he and Carson followed her.
"Upon my word," said Carson briskly, "this has been
quite solemn ! Really, a very interesting funeral, indeed !
I was delighted with the effect of our Church service; in
such a romantic place, too! ; Twas really very interesting.
It pleases me, also, to see young ladies in your station,
Nina, interest themselves in the humble concerns of the
poor. If young ladies knew how much more attractive it
made them to show a charitable spirit, they would culti
vate it more. Singular-looking person, that old negro !
Seems to be a good creature. Interesting children, too!
I should think the woman must have been pretty when
she was young. Seen a great deal of trouble, no doubt,
poor thing! It s a comfort to hope she is better off now."
Nina was filled with indignation at this monologue; not
considering that the man was giving the very best he had
in him, and laboring assiduously at what he considered his
vocation, the prevention of half an hour of silence in any
spot of earth where he could possibly make himself heard.
The same excitement which made Nina cry made him talk.
But he was not content with talking, but insisted upon
asking Nina, every moment, if she didn t think it an
interesting occasion, and if she had not been much im
pressed.
"I don t feel like talking, Mr. Carson," said Nina.
"Oh ah yes, indeed! You ve been so deeply
affected yes. Naturally does incline one to silence.
Understand your feelings perfectly. Very gratifying to
EXPLANATIONS 155
me to see you take such a deep interest in your fellow
creatures. "
Nina could have pushed him out of the carriage.
"For my part," continued Carson, "I think we don t
reflect enough about this kind of things I positively
don t. It really is useful sometimes to have one s
thoughts turned in this direction. It does us good."
Thus glibly did Carson proceed to talk away the impres
sion of the whole scene they had witnessed. Long before
the carriage reached home Nina had forgotten all her
sympathy in a tumult of vexation. She discovered an
increasing difficulty in making Carson understand, by any
degree of coolness, that he was not acceptable ; and saw
nothing before her but explanations in the very plainest
terms, mortifying and humiliating as that might be. His
perfect self-complacent ease, and the air with which he
constantly seemed to appropriate her as something which
of right belonged to himself, filled her with vexation.
But yet her conscience told her that she had brought it
upon herself.
"I won t bear this another hour!" she said to herself,
as she ascended the steps toward the parlor. "All this
before Clayton, too ! What must he think of me 1 " But
they found tea upon the table and Aunt Nesbit waiting.
"It s a pity, madam, you were not with us. Such an
interesting time ! " said Mr. Carson, launching, with great
volubility, into the tide of discourse.
"It wouldn t have done for me at all," said Mrs. Nes
bit. "Being out when the dew falls always brings on
hoarseness. I have been troubled in that way these two
or three years. Now I have to be very careful. Then
I m timid about riding in a carriage with John s driving."
"I was amused enough," said Nina, "with Old Hun
dred s indignation at having to get out the carriage and
horses to go over to what he called a cracker funeral. I
156 DEED
really believe, if he could have upset us without hurting
himself, he would have done it."
"For my part," said Aunt Nesbit, "I hope that family
will move off before long. It s very disagreeable having
such people round."
"The children look very pretty and bright," said Nina.
"Oh, there s no hope for them! They 11 grow up and
be just like their parents. I ve seen that sort of people
all through and through. I don t wish them any evil;
only I don t want to have anything to do with them! "
"For my part," said Nina, "I m sorry for them. I
wonder why the legislature, or somebody, don t have
schools, as they do up in New York State? There isn t
anywhere there where children can t go to school, if they
wish to. Besides, aunt, these children really came from
an old family in Virginia. Their old servant-man says
that their mother was a Peyton."
"I don t believe a word of it! They ll lie all of
them. They always do."
"Well," said Nina, "I shall do something for these
children, at any rate."
"I quite agree with you, Nina. It shows a very excel
lent spirit in you," said Mr. Carson. "You 11 always find
me ready to encourage everything of that sort."
Nina frowned and looked indignant. But to no pur
pose. Mr. Carson went on remorselessly with his really
good-hearted rattle, till Nina, at last, could bear it no
longer.
" How dreadfully warm this room is ! " said she, spring
ing up. "Come, let s go back into the parlor."
Nina was as much annoyed at Clayton s silence, and his
quiet, observant reserve, as with Carson s forth- putt ing.
Rising from table, she passed on before the company, with
a half-flying trip, into the hall, which lay now cool, calm,
and breezy, in the twilight, with the odor of the pillar-
EXPLANATIONS 157
roses floating in at the window. The pale white moon,
set in the rosy belt of the evening sky, looked in at the
open door. Nina would have given all the world to be
still; but well aware that stillness was out of the ques
tion she determined to select her own noise, and sitting
down at the piano, began playing very fast, in a rapid,
restless, disconnected manner. Clayton threw himself on
a lounge by the open door; while Carson busied himself
fluttering the music, opening and shutting music-books,
and interspersing running commentaries and notes of admi
ration on the playing.
At last, as if she could bear it no longer, she rose, with
a very decided air, from the piano, and facing about to
wards Mr. Carson, said :
"It looks very beautiful outdoors. Don t you want to
come out? There s a point of view at the end of one
of the paths, where the moon looks on the water, that I
should like to show you."
"Won t you catch cold, Nina? 7 said Aunt Nesbit.
"No, indeed! I never catch cold," said Nina, spring
ing into the porch, and taking the delighted Mr. Carson s
arm. And away she went with him, with almost a skip
and a jump, leaving Clayton tete-a-tete with Aunt Nesbit.
Nina went so fast that her attendant was almost out of
breath. They reached a little knoll, and there Nina
stopped suddenly, and said, "Look here, Mr. Carson; I
have something to say to you."
"I should be delighted, my dear Nina! I m perfectly
charmed ! "
" No no if you please don t ! " said Nina, put
ting up her hand to stop him. "Just wait till you hear
what I have to say. I believe you did not get a letter
which I wrote you a few days ago, did you ? "
"A letter! no, indeed. How unfortunate !"
"Very unfortunate for me!" said Nina; "and for you,
158 DEED
too. Because, if you had, it would have saved you and
me the trouble of this interview. I wrote that letter to
tell you, Mr. Carson, that I cannot think of such a thing
as an engagement with you! That I ve acted very wrong
and very foolishly; but that I cannot do it. In New
York, where everybody and everything seemed to be tri
fling, and where the girls all trifled with these things, I was
engaged just for frolic nothing more. I had no idea
what it would amount to ; no idea what I was saying, nor
how I should feel afterwards. But every hour since I ve
been home, here, since I ve been so much alone, has made
me feel how wrong it is. Now, I m very sorry, I m sure.
But I must speak the truth, this time. But it is I
can t tell you how disagreeable to me to have you treat
me as you have since you ve been here! "
"Miss Gordon!" said Mr. Carson, "I am positively
astonished ! I I don t know what to think ! "
"Well, I only want you to think I am in earnest; and
that, though I can like you very well as an acquaintance,
and shall always wish you well, yet anything else is just
as far out of the question as that moon there is from us.
I can t tell you how sorry I am that I ve made you all
this trouble. I really am," said she good naturedly;
"but please now to understand how we stand." She
turned, and tripped away.
"There!" said she to herself, "at any rate, I ve done
one thing ! "
Mr. Carson stood still, gradually recovering from the
stupor into which this communication had thrown him.
He stretched himself, rubbed his eyes, took out his watch
and looked at it, and then began walking off with a very
sober pace in the opposite direction from Nina. Happily
constituted mortal that he was, nothing ever could be sub
tracted from his sum of complacence that could not be
easily balanced by about a quarter of an hour s considera-
EXPLANATIONS 159
tion. The walk through the shrubbery in which he was
engaged was an extremely pretty one, and wound along on
the banks of the river through many picturesque points of
view, and finally led again to the house by another ap
proach. During the course of this walk Mr. Carson had
settled the whole question for himself. In the first place,
he repeated the comfortable old proverb, that there were as
good fish in the sea as ever were caught. In the second
place, as Mr. Carson was a shrewd business man, it oc
curred to him, in this connection, that the plantation was
rather run down, and not a profitable acquisition. And
in the third place, contemplating Nina as the fox of old
did his bunch of sour grapes, he began to remember that,
after all, she was dressy, expensive, and extravagant.
Then, as he did not want that imperturbable good nature
which belongs to a very shallow capability of feeling, he
said to himself that he should n t like the girl a bit the
less. In fact, when he thought of his own fine fortune,
his house in New York, and all the accessories which
went to make up himself, he considered her, on the whole,
as an object of pity; and by the time that he ascended
the balcony steps again, he was in as charitable and Chris
tian a frame as any rejected suitor could desire.
He entered the drawing-room. Aunt Nesbit had ordered
candles, and was sitting up with her gloves on, alone.
What had occurred during his walk he did not know; but
we will take our readers into confidence.
Nina returned to the house Avith the same decided air
with which she went out, and awakened Mr. Clayton from
a reverie with a brisk little tap of her fan on his shoulder.
"Come up here with me," she said, "and look out of
the library window, and see this moonlight."
And up she went, over the old oaken staircase, stopping
on each landing, and beckoning to Clayton, with a whim
sically authoritative gesture, threw open the door of a
160 DEED
large, black-wainscoted room, and ushered him in. The
room lay just above the one where they had been sitting,
and, like that, opened on to the veranda by long-sashed
windows, through which, at the present moment, a flood
of moonlight was pouring. A large mahogany writing-
table, covered with papers, stood in the middle of the
room, and the moon shone in so brightly that the pattern
of the bronze inkstand and the color of the wafers and
sealing-wax were plainly revealed. The window com
manded a splendid view of the river over the distant tree-
tops, as it lay shimmering and glittering in the moonlight.
"Isn t that a beautiful sight?" said Nina in a hurried
voice.
" Very beautiful ! " said Clayton, sitting down in the
large lounging- chair before the window, and looking out
with the abstracted air which was habitual with him.
After a moment s thought, Nina added, with a sudden
effort,
" But, after all, that was not what I wanted to speak to
you about. I wanted to see you somewhere, and say a
few words which it seems to me it is due to you that I
should say. I got your last letter, and I m sure I am
very much obliged to your sister for all the kind things
she says; but I think you must have been astonished at
what you have seen since you have been here."
"Astonished at what? " said Clayton quietly.
"At Mr. Carson s manners towards me."
"I have not been astonished at all," replied Clayton
quietly.
"I think, at all events," said Nina, "I think it is no
more than honorable that I should tell you exactly how
things have stood. Mr. Carson has thought that he had
a right to me and mine; and I was so foolish as to give
him reason to think so. The fact is, that I have been
making a game of life, and saying and doing anything and
EXPLANATIONS 161
everything that came into my head, just for frolic. It
don t seem to me that there has been anything serious or
real about me, until very lately. Somehow, my acquaint
ance with you has made things seem more real to me than
they ever did before; and it seems to me now perfectly
incredible, the way we girls used to play and trifle with
everything in the world. Just for sport, I was engaged
to that man; just for sport, too, I have been engaged to
another one."
"And," said Clayton, breaking the silence, "just for
sport have you been engaged to me ? "
"No," said Nina, after a few moments silence, "not
in sport, certainly; but yet, not enough in earnest. I
think I am about half waked up. I don t know myself.
I don t know where or what I am, and I want to go back
into that thoughtless dream. I do really think it s too
hard to take up the responsibility of living in good earnest.
Now, it seems to me just this, that I cannot be bound
to anybody. I want to be free. I have positively broken
all connection with Mr. Carson; I have broken with an
other one, and I wish "
" To break with me 1 " said Clayton.
"I don t really know as I can say what I do wish. It
is a very different thing from any of the others, but there s
a feeling of dread, and responsibility, and constraint, about
it; and though I think I should feel very lonesome now
without you, and though I like to get your letters, yet it
seems to me that I cannot be engaged, that is a most
dreadful feeling to me."
"My dear friend," said Clayton, "if that is all, make
yourself easy. There s no occasion for our being engaged.
If you can enjoy being with me and writing to me, why,
do it in the freest way, and to-morrow shall take care for
the things of itself. You shall say what you please, do
what you please, write when you please, and not write
VOL. I.
162 DRED
when you please, and have as many or as few letters as
you like. There can be no true love without liberty."
"Oh, I m sure I m much obliged to you! " said Nina,
with a sigh of relief. "And now, do you know, I like
your sister s postscript very much; but I can t tell what it
is in it, for the language is as kind as can be, that would
give me the impression that she is one of those very proper
kind of people, that would be dreadfully shocked if she
knew of all my goings on in New York."
Clayton could hardly help laughing at the instinctive
sagacity of this remark.
"I m sure I don t know," said he, "where you could
have seen that, in so short a postscript, too. "
"Do you know, I never take anybody s handwriting into
my hand that I don t feel an idea of them come over me,
just as you have when you see people? And that idea
came over me when I read your sister s letter."
"Well, Nina, to tell you the truth, sister Anne is a
little bit conventional a little set in her ways ; but,
after all, a large-hearted, warm-hearted woman. You
would like each other, I know."
"I don t know about that," said Nina. "I am very
apt to shock proper people. Somehow or other, they have
a faculty of making me contrary."
"Well, but, you see, Anne isn t merely a conventional
person; there s only the slightest crust of conventionality,
and a real warm heart under it."
"Whereas," said Nina, "most conventional people are
like a shallow river, frozen to the bottom. But now,
really, I should like very much to have your sister come
and visit us, if I could think that she would come as any
other friend; but, you know, it isn t very agreeable to
have anybody come to look one over to see if one will do."
Clayton laughed at the naive undisguised frankness of
this speech.
EXPLANATIONS 163
"You see," said Nina, "though I m nothing but an
ignorant schoolgirl, I m as proud as if I had everything
to be proud of. Now, do you know, I don t much like
writing to your sister, because I don t think I write very
good letters ! I never could sit still long enough to write. "
"Write exactly as you talk," said Clayton. "Say just
what comes into your head, just as you would talk it. I
hope you will do that much, for it will be very dull writ
ing all on one side."
"Well," said Nina, rising, with animation, "now, Mr.
Edward Clayton, if we have settled about this moonlight,
we may as well go down into the parlor, where Aunt Nesbit
and Mr. Carson are tete-a-tete."
" Poor Carson ! " said Clayton.
"Oh, don t pity him! Good soul! he s a man that
one night s rest would bring round from anything in crea
tion. He s so thoroughly good natured! Besides, I shall
like him better, now. He did not use to seem to me so
intrusive and disagreeable. We girls used to like him very
well, he was such a comfortable, easy-tempered, agreeable
creature, always brisk and in spirits, and knowing every
thing that went on. But he is one of those men that I
think would be really insufferable, if anything serious were
the matter with me. Now, you heard how he talked
coming from that funeral ! Do you know, that if he had
been coming from my funeral it would have been just so ? "
"Oh no, not quite so bad," said Clayton.
"Indeed he is," said Nina. "That man! why, he just
puts me in mind of one of these brisk blue-flies, whirring
and whisking about, marching over pages of books, and
alighting on all sorts of things. When he puts on that
grave look, and begins to talk about serious things, he
actually looks to me just as a fly does when he stands
brushing his wings on a Bible ! But come, let s go down
to the good soul."
164 DEED
Down they went, and Nina seemed like a person en
franchised. Never had she seemed more universally gra
cious. She was chatty and conversable with Carson, and
sang over for him all her old opera-songs, with the better
grace that she saw that Clayton was listening intently.
As they were sitting and conversing together, the sound
of a horse s heels was heard coming up the avenue.
"Who can that be, this time of night?" said Nina,
springing to the door, and looking out.
She saw Harry hastening in advance to meet her, and
ran down the veranda steps to speak to him.
"Harry, who is coming? 7
"Miss Nina, it s Master Tom," said Harry in a low
voice.
" Tom ! Oh, mercy ! " said Nina in a voice of appre
hension. "What sent him here, now?"
"What sends him anywhere? " said Harry.
Nina reascended the steps, and stood looking apprehen
sively towards the horseman, who approached every moment
nearer. Harry came up on the veranda, and stood a little
behind her. In a few moments the horse was up before
the steps.
"Hallo, there!" said the rider. "Come, take my
horse, you rascal ! "
Harry remained perfectly still, put his arms by his side,
and stood with a frowning expression on his forehead.
"Don t you hear?" said the horseman, throwing him
self off, with an oath. "Come here, boy, and take my
horse ! "
"For pity s sake," said Nina, turning and looking in
Harry s face, "don t have a scene here! Do take his
horse, quick ! Anything to keep him quiet ! "
With a sudden start, Harry went down the steps, and
took the bridle from the hand of the newly arrived in
silence.
EXPLANATIONS 165
The horseman sprang up the steps.
"Hallo, Nin, is this you?" And Nina felt herself
roughly seized in the arms of a shaggy greatcoat, and
kissed by lips smelling of brandy and tobacco. She faintly
said, as she disengaged herself,
"Tom, is it you?"
" Yes, to be sure ! Who did you think it was 1 Devil
ish glad to see me, ain t you 1 Suppose you was in hopes
I wouldn t come! "
"Hush, Tom, do! I am glad to see you. There are
gentlemen in there; don t speak so loud!"
" Some of your beaux, hey ? Well, I am as good a fel
low as any of em! Free country, I hope! No, I ain t
going to whisper, for any of them. So now, Nin If
there isn t old Starchy, to be sure!" said he, as Aunt
Nesbit came to the door. "Hallo, old girl, how are
you?"
"Thomas!" said Mrs. Nesbit softly, "Thomas!"
"None of your Thomasing me, you old pussy-cat!
Don t you be telling me, neither, to hush! I won t hush,
neither! I know what I am about, I guess! It s my
house as much as it is Nin s, and I m going to do as I
have a mind to here! I ain t going to have my mouth shut
on account of her beaux! So, clear out, I tell you, and
let me come in ! " and Aunt Nesbit gave back. He
pushed his way into the apartment.
He was a young man, about twenty-five years old, who
evidently had once possessed advantages of face and figure;
but every outline in the face was bloated and rendered un
meaning by habits of constant intemperance. His dark eyes
had that muddy and troubled expression which in a young
man too surely indicates the habitual consciousness of inward
impurity. His broad, high forehead was flushed and pim
pled, his lips swollen and tumid, and his whole air and
manner gave painful evidence that he was at present too
166 DRED
far under the influence of stimulants justly to apprehend
what he was about.
Nina followed him, and Clayton was absolutely shocked
at the ghastly paleness of her face. She made an uncer
tain motion towards him, as if she would have gone to him
for protection. Clayton rose; Carson, also; and all stood
for a moment in silent embarrassment.
"Well, this is a pretty business, to be sure! Nina,"
said he, turning to her, with a tremendous oath, "why
don t you introduce me 1 ? Pretty way to meet a brother
you have n t seen for three or four years ! You act as if
you were ashamed of me ! Confound it all ! introduce me,
I say ! "
"Tom, don t speak so!" said Nina, laying her hand on
his arm, in a soothing tone. "This gentleman is Mr.
Clayton; and Mr. Clayton," she said, lifting her eyes to
him, and speaking in a trembling voice, "this is my
brother."
Mr. Clayton offered his hand, with the ordinary expres
sions of civility.
" Mr. Carson, " said Nina, " my brother. "
There was something inexpressibly touching and affect
ing in the manner in which this was said. One other per
son noticed it. Harry, who had given the horse to a ser
vant, stood leaning against the doorway, looking on. A
fiery gleam, like that of a steel blade, seemed to shoot from
his blue eyes; and each time that Nina said "my brother,"
he drew in his breath, as one who seeks to restrain himself
in some violent inward emotion.
"I suppose you don t any of you want to see me much,"
said the newcomer, taking a chair, and sitting down dog
gedly in the centre of the group, with his hat on his head.
" Well, I have as good a right as anybody to be here ! "
he continued, spitting a quid of tobacco at Aunt Nesbit s
feet.
EXPLANATIONS 167
"For my part, I think relations ought to have natural
affection, and be glad to see one another. Well, now,
you can see, gentlemen, with your own eyes, just how it
is here ! There s my sister, there. You better believe
me, she has n t seen me for three years ! Instead of ap
pearing glad, or anything, there she sits, all curled up in
a corner! Won t come near me, more than if I had the
plague! Come here, now, you little kit, and sit in my
lap ! "
He made a movement to pull Nina towards him, which
she resisted with an air of terror, looking at her aunt,
who, more terrified still, sat with her feet drawn up on
the sofa, as if he had been a mad dog. There was reason
enough for the terror which seemed to possess them both.
Both had too vivid recollections of furious domestic hurri
canes that had swept over the family when Tom Gordon
came home. Nina remembered the storms of oaths and
curses that had terrified her when a child; the times that
she had seen her father looking like death, leaning his
head on his hand, and sighing as only those sigh who have
an only son worse than dead. It is no wonder, therefore,
that Nina, generally courageous and fearless as she was,
should have become fearful and embarrassed at his sudden
return.
"Tom," she said softly, coming up to him, "you haven t
been to supper. Hadn t you better come out? "
"No you don t! " said he, catching her round the waist,
and drawing her on his knee. "You won t get me out of
the room, now! I know what I am about! Tell me,"
continued he, still holding her on his knee, "which of
them is it, Nin ? which is the favored one 1 "
Clayton rose and went out on the veranda, and Mr.
Carson asked Harry to show him into his room.
"Hallo! shelling out there, are they? Well, Nin, to
tell the truth, I am deuced hungry. For my part, I don t
168 DEED
see what the thunder keeps my Jim out so long. I sent
him across to the post-office. He ought to have been back
certainly as soon as I was. Oh, here he comes ! Hallo !
you dog, there ! " said he, going to the door, where a very
black negro was dismounting. "Any letters?"
"No, mas r. I spect de mails have gin up. Der ain t
been no letters dere, for no one, for a month. It is some
quatic disorganization of dese yer creeks, I s pose. So de
letter- bags goes anywhere cept der right place."
"Confound it all! I say, you Nin," turmng round,
"why don t you offer a fellow some supper? Coming
home, here, in my own father s house, everybody acts as
if they were scared to death ! No supper ! "
"Why, Tom, I ve been asking you, these three or four
times. "
"Bless us!" said Jim, whispering to Harry. "De
mischief is, he ain t more than half primed! Tell her to
give him a little more brandy, and after a little we will
get him into bed as easy as can be ! "
And the event proved so; for on sitting down to sup
per, Tom Gordon passed regularly through all the stages
of drunkenness; became as outrageously affectionate as he
had been before surly, kissed Nina and Aunt Nesbit, cried
over his sins and confessed his iniquities, laughed and cried
feebly, till at last he sank in his chair asleep.
"Dar, he is done for, now!" said Jim, who had been
watching the gradual process. "Now, just you and I,
let s tote him off," said he to Harry.
Nina, on her part, retired to a troubled pillow. She
foresaw nothing before her but mortification and embarrass
ment, and realized more than ever the peculiar loneliness
of her situation. For all purposes of consultation and aid,
Aunt Nesbit was nobody in her esteem, and Nina was
always excited and vexed by every new attempt that she
made to confide in her.
EXPLANATIONS 169
"Now, to-morrow," she said to herself, as she lay down,
" no one knows what will turn up. He will go round as
usual, interfering with everything threatening and fright
ening my servants, and getting up some difficulty with
Harry. Dear me ! it seems to me life is coming over me
hard enough, and all at once, too ! "
As Nina said this she saw some one standing by her
bed. It was Milly, who stooped tenderly over her,
smoothing and arranging the bedclothes in a motherly
way. " Is that you, Milly ? Oh, sit down here a minute !
I am so troubled! It seems to me I ve had so much
trouble to-day ! Do you know, Tom came home to-night
so drunk ! Oh, dear Milly, it was horrid ! Do you know,
he took me in his arms and kissed me ; and though he is
my only brother, it s perfectly dreadful to me! And I
feel so worried and so anxious ! "
"Yes, lamb, I knows all about dese yer things," said
Milly. "I s seen him many and many times."
"The worst of it is," said Nina, "that I don t know
what he will do to-morrow and before Mr. Clayton, too !
It makes me feel so helpless, ashamed, and mortifies me
so!"
"Yes, yes, chile," said Milly, gently stroking her head.
"I stand so much alone!" said Nina. "Other girls
have some friend or relation to lean on; but I have no
body ! "
"Why don t you ask your Father to help you?" said
Milly to Nina in a gentle tone.
"Aakwho?" said Nina, lifting up her head from the
pillow.
" Your Father ! " said Milly, with a voice of solemnity.
"Don t you know Our Father who art in Heaven ? You
haven t forgot your prayers, I hope, honey."
Nina looked at her with surprise. And Milly contin
ued, "Now, if I was you, lamb, I would tell my Father
170 DRED
all about it. Why, chile, He loves you! He wouldn t
like nothing better, now, than to have you just come to Him
and tell Him all about your troubles, and He 11 make em
all straight. That s the way I does, and I s found it
come out right many and many a time."
"Why, Milly, you wouldn t have me go to God about
my little foolish affairs 1 "
"Laws, chile, what should you go to Him bout, den?
Sure dese are all de fairs you s got. 7
"Well, but, Milly," said Nina apprehensively, "you
know I ve been a very bad girl about religion. It s years
and years since I ve said any prayers. At school, the
girls used to laugh at anybody who said prayers; and so I
never did. And since I ve neglected my heavenly Father
when things went well with me, it would n t be fair to call
on Him now, just because I ve got into trouble. I don t
think it would be honorable."
"De Lord bless dis yer chile! Do hear her talk! Just
as if de heavenly Father didn t know all about you, and
hadn t been a loving and watching you de whole time!
Why, chile, He knows what poor foolish creatures we be;
and He ain t noways surprised, nor put out. Why, laws,
don t you know He s de good shepherd? And what you
suppose dey has shepherds fur, cept de sheeps are all de
time running away, and getting into trouble? Why,
honey, dat s what dey s fur."
"Well, but it is so long since I prayed, that I don t
know anything how to pray, Milly."
"Bless you, chile, who wanted you to pray? I never
prays myself. Used to try, but I made such drefful poor
work on it that I gin it up. Now, I just goes and talks
to de Father, and tells Him anything and everything; and
I think He likes it a great deal better. Why, He is just
as willing to hear me now as if I was the greatest lady in
the land. And He takes such an interest in all my poor
EXPLANATIONS 171
fairs! Why, sometimes I go to Him when my heart is
so heavy; and when I tells Him all about it, I comes
away as light as a feather ! "
"Well, but after I ve forgotten Him so many years! "
"Why, honey, now just look yere! I member once,
when you was a little weety thing, that you toddles down
dem steps dere, and you slips away from dem dat was
watching you, and you toddles away off into de grove,
yonder, and dere you got picking flowers, and one thing
and another, mighty tickled and peart. You was down dere
joying yourself, till, by and by, your pa missed you; and
den such another hunt as dere was ! Dere was a hurrying
here, and a looking dere ; and finally your pa run down in
de woods, and dere you d got stuck fast in de mud! both
your shoes off, and well scratched with briers; and dere
you stood a-crying, and calling your pa. I tell you he
said dat ar was de sweetest music he ever heard in his life.
I member he picked you up, and came up to de house
kissing you. Now, dere twas, honey! You didn t call
on your pa till you got into trouble. And laws, laws,
chile, dat s de way with us all. We never does call on
de Father till we gets into trouble; and it takes heaps and
heaps of trouble, sometimes, to bring us round. Some
time, chile, I 11 tell you my sperence. I s got a sperence
on this point. But now, honey, don t trouble yourself
no more; but just ask your Father to take care of your
fairs, and turn over and go to sleep. And He 11 do it.
Now you mind."
So saying, Milly smoothed the pillow with anxious care,
and kissing Nina on the forehead, departed.
CHAPTER XIII
TOM GORDON
"I SAY, Nina," said her brother, coming in, the day
after, from a survey he had been taking round the prem
ises, "you want me here to manage this place. Every
thing going at sixes and sevens; and that nigger of a
Harry riding round with his boots shining. That fellow
cheats you, and feathers his own nest well. I know!
These white niggers are all deceitful."
"Come, Tom, you know the estate is managed just as
father left word to have it ; and Uncle John says that Harry
is an excellent manager. I m sure nobody could have
been more faithful to me ; and I am very well satisfied. "
"Yes, I dare say. All left to you and the executors,
as you call them; as if /were not the natural guardian of
my sister! Then I come here to put up with that fellow s
impudence ! "
"Whose? Harry s? He is never impudent. He is
always gentlemanly. Everybody remarks it."
" Gentlemanly ! There it is, Nin ! What a fool you
are to encourage the use of that word in connection w r ith
any of your niggers! Gentleman, forsooth! And while
he plays gentleman, who takes care? I tell you what,
you 11 find one of these days how things are going on.
But that s just the way! You never would listen to me,
or pay the least attention to my advice."
"Oh, Tom, don t talk about that don t! I never
interfere about your affairs. Please leave me the right to
manage mine in my own way."
TOM GORDON 173
"And who is this Clayton that s hanging about here?
Are you going to have him, or he you hey ? "
"I don t know, 7 said Nina.
"Because /, for one, don t like him; and I sha n t give
my consent to let him have you. That other one is worth
twice as much. He has one of the largest properties in
New York. Joe Snider has told me about him. You
shall have him."
"I shall not have him, say what you please; and I
shall have Mr. Clayton, if I choose ! " said Nina, with a
heightened color. " You have no right to dictate to me of
my own affairs; and I sha n t submit to it, I tell you
frankly."
" Highty-tighty ! We are coming up, to be sure ! " said
Tom.
"Moreover," said Nina, "I wish you to let everything
on this place entirely alone; and remember that my ser
vants are not your servants, and that you have no control
over them whatever."
"Well, we will see how you ll help yourself! I am
not going to go skulking about on my father s own place
as if I had no right or title there; and if your niggers
don t look sharp, they 11 find out whether I am the master
here or not, especially that Harry. If the dog dares so
much as to lift his fingers to countermand any one of my
orders, I d put a bullet through his head as soon as I
would through a buck s. I give you warning! "
"Oh, Tom, pray don t talk so!" said Nina, who really
began to be alarmed. "What do you want to make me
such trouble for 1 "
The conversation was here suspended by the entrance of
Milly. "If you please, Miss Nina, come and show me
which of your muslins you wish to be done up, as I s
starching for Miss Loo."
Glad of an opportunity to turn the conversation, Nina
174 DEED
ran up to her room, whither she was followed by Milly,
who shut the door, and spoke to her in mysterious tones.
"Miss Nina, can t you make some errand to get Harry off
the place for two or three days, while Mas r Tom s
round ? "
"But what right," said Nina, with heightened color,
"has he to dictate to my servants, or me? or to interfere
with any of our arrangements here 1 "
"Oh, dere s no use talking about rights, honey. We
must all do jest what we ken. Don t make much odds
whether our rights is one way or t other. You see, chile,
it s just here. Harry s your right hand. But you see, he
ain t learnt to bend fore the wind, like the rest of us. He
is spirity; he is just as full now as a powder-box; and
Mas r Tom is bent on aggravating him. And, laws, chile,
dere may be bloody work dere may so ! "
"Why, do you think he d dare "
"Chile, don t talk to me! Dare! yes; sure nough
he will dare! Besides, dere s fifty ways young gentlemen
may take to aggravate and provoke. And when flesh and
blood can t bear it no longer, if Harry raises his hand,
why, den shoot him down ! Nothing said nothing done.
You can t help yourself. You won t want to have a law
suit with your own brother; and if you did, twould n t
bring Harry to life ! Laws, chile, ef I could tell you what
I ve seen you don t know nothing bout it. Now, I
tell you, get up some message to your uncle s plantation;
send him off for anything or nothing; only have him
gone ! And then speak your brother fair, and then maybe
he will go off. But don t you quarrel! don t you cross
him, come what may ! Dere ain t a soul on the place that
can bar de sight on him. But then, you see, the rest dey
all bends ! But, chile, you must be quick about it ! Let
me go right off and find him. Just you come in the little
back room, and I 11 call him in."
TOM GORDON 175
Pale and trembling, Nina descended into the room; and
in a few moments after Milly appeared, followed by Harry.
"Harry!" said Nina in a trembling voice, "I want
you to take your horse and go over to Uncle John s plan
tation, and carry a note for me."
Harry stood with his arms folded, and his eyes fixed
upon the ground, and Nina continued,
"And, Harry, I think you had better make some busi
ness or errand to keep you away two or three days, or a
week."
"Miss Nina," said Harry, "the affairs of the place are
very pressing now, and need overlooking. A few days
neglect now may produce a great loss, and then it will be
said that I neglected my business to idle and ride round
the country."
"Well, but, if I send you, I take the responsibility,
and I 11 bear the loss. The fact is, Harry, I m afraid
that you won t have patience to be here, now Tom is at
home. In fact, Harry, I m afraid for your life! And
now, if you have any regard for me, make the best arrange
ment with the work you can, and be off. I 11 tell him
that I sent you on business of my own, and I am going to
write a letter for you to carry. It s the only safe way.
He has so many ways in which he can provoke and insult
you, that, at last, you may say or do something that will
give him occasion against you; and I think he is deter
mined to drive you to this."
"Isn t this provoking, now? isn t this outrageous!"
said Harry between his teeth, looking down, "that every
thing must be left, and all because I haven t the right to
stand up like a man, and protect you and yours ! "
"It is a pity! it is a shame! " said Nina. "But, Harry,
don t stop to think upon it; do go!" She laid her hand
softly on his. " For my sake, now, be good be good ! "
The room where they were standing had long windows,
176 DRED
which, opened, like those of the parlor, on the veranda,,
and commanded a view of a gravel walk bordered with
shrubbery. As Harry stood, hesitating, he started at see
ing Lisette come tripping up the walk, balancing on her
head a basket of newly ironed muslins and linens. Her
trim little figure was displayed in a close-fitting gown of
blue, a snowy handkerchief crossed upon her bust, and one
rounded arm raised to steady the basket upon her head.
She came tripping forward, with her usual airy motion,
humming a portion of a song; and attracted, at the same
moment, the attention of Tom Gordon and of her husband.
" Pon my word, if that isn t the prettiest concern!"
said Tom, as he started up and ran down the walk to meet
her.
" Good-morning, my pretty girl ! " he said.
"Good-morning, sir," returned Lisette in her usual
tone of gay cheerfulness.
"Pray, who do you belong to, my pretty little puss! I
think I ve never seen you on this place."
"Please, sir, I m Harry s wife."
"Indeed! you are, hey? Devilish good taste he has!"
said he, laying his hand familiarly on her shoulder.
The shoulder was pulled away, and Lisette moved rap
idly on to the other side of the path, with an air of vexa
tion which made her look rather prettier.
"What, my dear, don t you know that I am your hus
band s young master? Come, come!" he said, following
her, and endeavoring to take hold of her arm.
"Please let me alone!" said Lisette, coloring, and in a
pettish, vexed tone.
"Let you alone? No, that I sha n t, not while you ask
it in such a pretty way as that ! " And again the hand
was laid upon her shoulder.
It must be understood that Harry had witnessed so far,
in pantomime, this scene. He had stood with compressed
TOM GORDOX 177
lips, and eyes slowly dilating, looking at it. Nina, who
was standing with her back to the window, wondered at
the expression of his countenance.
"Look there, Miss Nina!" he said. "Do you see my
wife and your brother 1 "
Nina turned, and in an instant the color mounted to her
cheeks; her little form seemed to dilate, and her eyes
flashed fire; and before Harry could see what she was
doing, she was down in the gravel walk, and had taken
Lisette s hand.
" Tom Gordon, " she said, "I m ashamed of you ! Hush !
hush ! " she continued, fixing her eyes on him, and stamp
ing her foot. "Dare to come to my place, and take such
liberties here! You shall not be allowed to while I am
mistress; and I am mistress! Dare to lay a finger on this
girl while she is here under my protection! Come,
Lisette ! " And she seized the trembling girl by the hand,
and drew her along towards the house.
Tom Gordon was so utterly confused at this sudden
burst of passion in his sister that he let them go off with
out opposition. In a few moments he looked after her,
and gave a long, low whistle.
"Ah! Pretty well up for her! But she ll find it s
easier said than done, I fancy ! " And he sauntered up to
the veranda, where Harry stood with his arms folded, and
the veins in his forehead swelling with repressed emotion.
"Go in, Lisette," said Nina; "take the things into my
room, and I 11 come to you."
"Ton my word, Harry," said Tom, coming up, and
addressing Harry in the most insulting tone, "we are all
under the greatest obligations to you for bringing such a
pretty little fancy article here ! "
"My wife does not belong to this place," said Harry,
forcing himself to speak calmly. " She belongs to a Mrs.
Le Clere, who has come into Belleville plantation.
VOL. I.
178 DRED
"Ah! thank you for the information! I may take a
fancy to buy her, and I d like to know who she belongs
to. I ve been wanting a pretty little concern of that sort.
She s a good housekeeper, isn t she, Harry? Does up
shirts well? What do you suppose she could be got for?
I must go and see her mistress."
During this cruel harangue Harry s hands twitched and
quivered, and he started every now and then, looking first
at Nina, and then at his tormentor. He turned deadly
pale; even his lips were of ashy whiteness; and with his
arms still folded, and making no reply, he fixed his large
blue eyes upon Tom; and, as it sometimes happened in
moments of excitement and elevation, there appeared on
the rigid lines of his face, at that moment, so strong a
resemblance to Colonel Gordon, that Nina noticed and
was startled by it. Tom Gordon noticed it also. It added
fuel to the bitterness of his wrath; and there glared from
his eyes a malignancy of hatred that was perfectly appall
ing. The two brothers seemed like thunder- clouds oppos
ing each other, and ready to dart lightning. Nina has
tened to interfere.
" Hurry, hurry, Harry ! I want that message carried.
Do, pray, go directly ! "
"Let me see," said Tom, "I must call Jim, and have
my horse. Which is the way to that Belleville plantation ?
I think I 11 ride over." And he turned and walked indo
lently down the steps.
"For shame, Tom! you won t! you can t! How can
you want to trouble me so ? " said Nina.
He turned and looked upon her with an evil smile,
turned again, and was gone.
"Harry, Harry, go quick! Don t you worry; there s
no danger! " she added in a lower voice. "Mme. Le Clere
never would consent."
"There s no knowing!" said Harry, "never any know-
TOM GORDON 179
ing! People act about money as they do about nothing
else."
"Then then I ll send and buy her myself!" said
Nina.
"You don t know how our affairs stand, Miss Nina,"
said Harry hurriedly. "The money couldn t be raised
now for it, especially if I have to go off this week. It
will make a great difference, my being here or not being
here; and very likely Master Tom may have a thousand
dollars to pay down on the spot. I never knew him to
want money when his will was up. Great God! haven t
I borne this yoke long enough ? "
"Well, Harry," said Nina, "I ll sell everything I ve
got my jewels everything. I 11 mortgage the planta
tion, before Tom Gordon shall do this thing ! I m not
quite so selfish as I ve always seemed to be. I know
you ve made the sacrifice of body and soul to my interest;
and I ve always taken it because I loved my ease, and was
a spoiled child. But, after all, I know I ve as much
energy as Tom has, when I am roused, and I 11 go over
this very morning and make an offer for her. Only you
be off. You can t stand such provocation as you get here;
and if you yield, as any man will do, at last, then every
thing and everybody will go against you, and I can t pro
tect you. Trust to me. I m not so much of a child as
I have seemed to be! You ll find I can act for myself,
and you, too! There comes Mr. Clayton through the
shrubbery that s right! Order two horses round to the
door immediately, and we 11 go over there this morning."
Nina gave her orders with a dignity as if she had been
a princess, and in all his agitation Harry could not help
marveling at the sudden air of womanliness which had
come over her.
"I could serve you," he said in a low voice, "to the
last drop of my blood ! But, " he added in a tone which
180 DEED
made Nina tremble, "I hate everybody else! I hate your
country ! I hate your laws ! "
"Harry," said Nina, "you do wrong you forget your
self!"
"Oh, I do wrong, do I? We are the people that are
never to do wrong! People may stick pins in us, and
stick knives in us, wipe their shoes on us, spit in our face
ive must be amiable! we must be models of Christian
patience ! I tell you, your father should rather have put
me into quarters and made me work like a field-negro,
than to have given me the education he did, and leave me
under the foot of every white man that dares tread on
me!"
Nina remembered to have seen her father in transports
of passion, and was again shocked and startled to see the
resemblance between his face and the convulsed face before
her.
"Harry," she said in a pitying, half -admonitory tone,
"do think what you are saying! If you love me, be
quiet!"
"Love you? You have always held my heart in your
hand. That has been the clasp upon my chain. If it
hadn t been for you, I should have fought my way to the
North before now, or I would have found a grave on the
road ! "
"Well, Harry," said Nina, after a moment s thought,
" my love shall not be a clasp upon any chain ; for as there
is a God in heaven, I will set you free! I 11 have a bill
introduced at the very next legislature, and I know what
friend will see to it. So go, now, Harry, go ! "
Harry stood a moment, then suddenly raised the hand
of his little mistress to his lips, turned, and was gone.
Clayton, who had been passing through the shrubbery,
and who had remarked that Nina was engaged in a very
exciting conversation, had drawn off, and stood waiting for
TOM GORDON 181
her at the foot of the veranda steps. As soon as Nina saw
him, she reached out her hand frankly, saying, "Oh,
there, Mr. Clayton, you are just the person! Wouldn t
you like to take a ride with me 1 "
"Of course I should," said he.
"Wait here a moment," said she, "till I get ready.
The horses will be here immediately." And running up
the steps, she passed quickly by him, and went into the
house.
Clayton had felt himself in circumstances of considerable
embarrassment ever since the arrival of Tom Gordon, the
evening before. He had perceived that the young man
had conceived an instinctive dislike of himself, which he
was at no particular pains to conceal; and he had found it
difficult to preserve the appearance of one who does not
notice. He did not wish to intrude upon Nina any em
barrassing recognition of her situation, even under the
guise of sympathy and assistance; and waited, therefore,
till some word from her should authorize him to speak.
He held himself, therefore, ready to meet any confidence
which she might feel disposed to place in him ; not doubt
ing, from the frankness of her nature, that she would soon
find it impossible not to speak of what was so deeply in
teresting to her.
Nina soon reappeared, and mounting their horses, they
found themselves riding through the same forest road that
led to the cottage of Tiff, from which a divergent path
went to the Belleville plantation.
"I m glad to see you alone this morning, for many
reasons," said Nina; "for I think I never needed a friend s
help more. I m mortified that you should have seen what
you did last night; but since you have, I may as well
speak of it. The fact is, that my brother, though he is
the only one I have, never did treat me as if he loved me.
I can t tell what the reason is: whether he was jealous of
182 DEED
my poor father s love for me, or whether it was because I
was a willful, spoiled girl, and so gave him reason to be set
against me, or whatever the reason might be, he never
has been kind to me long at a time. Perhaps he would
be, if I would always do exactly as he says; but I am
made as positive and willful as he is. I never have been
controlled, and I can t recognize the right which he seems
to assume to control me, and to dictate as to my own
private affairs. He was not left my guardian; and though
I do love him, I sha n t certainly take him as one. Now,
you see, he has a bitter hatred, and a most unreasonable
one, towards my Harry; and I had no idea, when I came
home, in how many ways he had the power to annoy me.
It does seem as if an evil spirit possessed them both when
they get together; they seem as full of electricity as they
can be, and I am every instant afraid of an explosion.
Unfortunately for Harry, he has had a much superior edu
cation to the generality of his class and station, and the
situation of trust in which he has been placed has given
him more the feelings of a free man and a gentleman than
is usual; for, except Tom, there isn t one of our family
circle that has n t always treated him with kindness, and
even with deference; and I think this very thing angers
Tom the more, and makes him take every possible occasion
of provoking and vexing. I believe it is his intention to
push Harry up to some desperate action; and when I see
how frightfully they look at each other, I tremble for the
consequences. Harry has lately married a very pretty
wife, with whom he lives in a little cottage on the extrem
ity of the Belleville estate; and this morning Tom hap
pened to spy her, and it seemed to inspire him with a most
ingenious plan to trouble Harry. He threatened to come
over and buy her of Mme. Le Clere; and so, to quiet
Harry, I promised to come over here before him, and make
an offer for her. 7
TOM GORDON 183
"Why, 7 said Clayton, "do you think her mistress
would sell her 1 "
"I can t say," said Nina. "She is a person I am ac
quainted with only by report. She is a New Orleans
creole who has lately bought the place. Lisette, I believe,
hired her time of her. Lisette is an ingenious, active
creature, and contrives, by many little arts and accomplish
ments, to pay a handsome sum, monthly, to her mistress.
Whether the offer of a large sum at once would tempt her
to sell her is more than I know until it s tried. I should
like to have Lisette, for Harry s sake."
" And do you suppose your brother was really serious 1 "
"I shouldn t be at all surprised if he were. But, seri
ous or not serious, I intend to make the matter sure."
"If it be necessary to make an immediate payment,"
said Clayton, " I have a sum of money which is lying idle
in the bank, and it s but drawing a check which will be
honored at sight. I mention this, because the ability to
make an immediate payment may make the negotiation
easier. You ought to allow me the pleasure of joining
you in a good work."
"Thank you," said Nina frankly. "It may not be
necessary ; but if it should be, I will take it in the same
spirit in which it is offered."
After a ride of about an hour they arrived in the boun
daries of Belleville plantation. In former days, Nina had
known this as the residence of an ancient rich family, with
whom her father was on visiting terms. She was therefore
uncomfortably struck with the air of poverty, waste, and
decay, everywhere conspicuous through the grounds.
Nothing is more depressing and disheartening than the
sight of a gradual decay of what has been arranged and
constructed with great care ; and when Nina saw the dilapi
dated gateway, the crushed and broken shrubbery, the gaps
in the fine avenue where the trees had been improvidently
184 DEED
cut down for fire-wood, she could not help a feeling of
depression.
"How different this place used to be when I came here
as a child! 5 said she. "This madam, whatever her name
is, can t be much of a manager."
As she said this their horses came to the front of the
house, in which the same marks of slovenly neglect were
apparent. Blinds were hanging by one hinge; the door
had sunk down into the rotten sill; the wooden pillars
that supported it were decayed at the bottom; and the
twining roses which once climbed upon them laid trailing,
dishonored, upon the ground. The veranda was littered
with all kinds of rubbish, rough boxes, saddles, bridles,
overcoats; and various nondescript articles formed conven
ient hiding-places and retreats, in which a troop of negro
children and three or four dogs were playing at hide-and-
go-seek with great relish and noise. On the alighting of
Nina and Clayton at the door they all left their sports,
and arranged themselves in a grinning row, to see the new
comers descend. Nothing seemed to be further from the
minds of the little troop than affording the slightest assist
ance in the way of holding horses or answering questions.
All they did was alternately to look at each other and the
travelers, and grin.
A tattered servant-man, with half a straw hat on his
head, was at length raised by a call of Clayton, who took
their horses having first distributed a salutation of kicks
and cuffs among the children, asking where their manners
were that they did n t show the gentleman and lady in.
And Nina and Clayton were now marshaled by the whole
seven of them into an apartment on the right of the great
hall. Everything in the room appeared in an unfinished
state. The curtains were half put up at the windows, and
part lying in a confused heap on the chairs. The damp,
mouldy paper, which hung loosely from the wall, had been
TOM GORDON 185
torn away in some places, as if to prepare for repapering;
and certain half-opened rolls of costly wall-paper lay on
the table, on which appeared the fragment of some ancient
luncheon; to wit, plates, and pieces of bread and cheese,
dirty tumblers, and an empty bottle. It was difficult to
find a chair sufficiently free from dust to sit down on.
Nina sent up her card by one of the small fry, who, having
got halfway up the staircase, was suddenly taken with the
desire to slide down the banisters with it in his hand. Of
course he dropped the card in the operation; and the
whole group precipitated themselves briskly on to it, all
in a heap, and fought, tooth and nail, for the honor of
carrying it upstairs. They were aroused, however, by
the entrance of the man with half a hat; who, on Nina s
earnest suggestion, plunged into the troop, which ran,
chattering and screaming like so many crows, to different
parts of the hall, while he picked up the card, and with
infinite good will beaming on his shining black face, went
up with it, leaving Nina and Clayton waiting below. In
a few moments he returned.
"Missis will see de young lady upstairs. 57
Nina tripped promptly after him, and left Clayton the
sole tenant of the parlor for an hour. At length she re
turned, skipping down the stairs, and opening the door
with great animation.
"The thing is done! she said. "The bill of sale will
be signed as soon as we can send it over. 7
"I had better bring it over myself, 77 said Clayton, "and
make the arrangement. 77
" So be it ! 77 said Nina. " But pray let us be delivered
from this place ! Did you ever see such a desolate-looking
house? I remember when I ve seen it a perfect paradise
full of the most agreeable people. "
" And pray what sort of a person did you find 1 " said
Clayton, as they were riding homeward.
186 DEED
"Well," said Nina, "she s one of the tow-string order
of women. Very slack-twisted, too, I fancy tall, snuffy,
and sallow. Clothes looked rough-dry, as if they had
been pulled out of a bag. She had a bright- colored Madras
handkerchief tied round her head, and spoke French a
little more through her nose than French people usually
do. Flourished a yellow silk pocket-handkerchief. Poor
soul! She said she had been sick for a week with tooth
ache, and kept awake all night! So, one mustn t be criti
cal ! One comfort about these French people is, that they
are always ravis de vous voir, let what will turn up.
The good soul was really polite, and insisted on clearing
all the things off from a dusty old chair for me to sit down
in. The room was as much at sixes and sevens as the rest
of the house. She apologized for the whole state of things
by saying that they could not get workmen out there to do
anything for her; and so everything is left in the second
future tense; and the darkeys, I imagine, have a general
glorification in the chaos. She is one of the indulgent
sort, and I suspect she 11 be eaten up by them like the
locusts. Poor thing ! she is shockingly homesick, and long
ing for Louisiana again. For notwithstanding her snuffy
appearance, and yellow pocket-handkerchief, she really has
a genuine taste for beauty; and spoke most feelingly of the
oleanders, crape myrtles, and cape jessamines, of her native
state."
"Well, how did you introduce your business?" said
Clayton, laughing at this description.
Me ? Why, I flourished out the little French I have
at command, and she flourished her little English; and I
think I rather prepossessed the good soul, to begin with.
Then I made a sentimental story about Lisette and Harry s
amours; because I know French people always have a
taste for the sentimental. The old thing was really quite
affected, wiped her little black eyes, pulled her hooked
TOM GORDON 187
nose as a tribute to my eloquence, called Lisette her
enfant mignon, and gave me a little lecture on the tender
passion, which I am going to lay up for future use."
"Indeed!" said Clayton. "I should be charmed to
have you repeat it. Can t you give us a synopsis? "
"I don t know what synopsis means. But if you want
me to tell you what she said, I sha n t do it. Well, now,
do you know I am in the best spirits in the world, now
that I ve got this thing off my mind, and out of that
desolate house ? Did you ever see such a direful place 1
What is the reason, when we get down South, here, every
thing seems to be going to destruction, so ? I noticed it
all the way down through Virginia. It seems as if every
thing had stopped growing, and was going backwards.
Well, now, it s so different at the North! I went up, one
vacation, into New Hampshire. It s a dreadfully poor,
barren country; nothing but stony hills and poor soil.
And yet the people there seem to be so well off! They
live in such nice, tight, clean-looking white houses!
Everything around them looks so careful and comfortable;
and yet their land isn t half so good as ours, down here.
Why, actually, some of those places seem as if there were
nothing but rock! And then, they have winter about
nine months in the year, I do believe ! But these Yankees
turn everything to account. If a man s field is covered
with rock, he 11 find some way to sell it, and make money
out of it; and if they freeze up all winter, they sell the
ice, and make money out of that. They just live by sell
ing their disadvantages ! "
"And we grow poor by wasting our advantages," said
Clayton.
"Do you know," said Nina, "people think it s a dread
ful thing to be an Abolitionist? But for my part, I ve a
great inclination to be one. Perhaps because I have a
contrary turn, and always have a little spite against what
188 DEED
everybody else believes. But if you won t tell anybody,
I 11 tell you I don t believe in slavery ! "
"Nor I, either!" said Clayton.
"You don t! Well, really, I thought I was saying some
thing original. Now, the other day, Aunt Nesbit s minister
was at our house, and they sat crooning together, as they
always do; and among other things, they said, What a
blessed institution it was to bring these poor Africans over
here to get them Christianized ! So, by way of saying
something to give them a start, I told them I thought they
came nearer to making heathen of us than we to making
Christians of them."
"That s very true," said Clayton. "There s no doubt
that the kind of society which is built up in this way con
stantly tends to run back towards barbarism. It prevents
general education of the whites, and keeps the poorer
classes down to the lowest point, while it enriches a
few."
"Well, what do we have it for?" said Nina, "Why
don t we blow it up, right off?"
"That s a question easier asked than answered. The
laws against emancipation are very stringent. But I think
it is every owner s business to contemplate this as a future
resort, and to educate his servants in reference to it. That
is what I am trying to do on my plantation."
"Indeed!" said Nina, looking at him with a good deal
of interest. "Well, now, that reminds me of what I was
going to say to you. Generally speaking, my conscience
don t trouble me much about my servants, because I think
they are doing about as well with me as they would be
likely to do anywhere else. But now, there s Harry!
He is well educated, and I know that he could do for
himself, anywhere, better than he does here. I have
always had a kind of sense of this; but I ve thought of it
more lately, and I m going to try to have him set free at
TOM GORDON 189
the next legislature. And I shall want you to help me
about all the what-do-you-call- ems."
"Of course, I shall be quite at your service," said Clay
ton.
"There used to be some people, when I was up at the
North, who talked as if all of us were no better than a
pack of robbers and thieves. And, of course, when I
was there I was strong for our institutions, and would not
give them an inch of ground. It set me to thinking,
though; and the result of my thinking is, that we have
no right to hold those to work for us who clearly can do
better. Now, there ; s Aunt Nesbit s Milly there s
Harry and Lisette. Why, it s clear enough, if they can
support themselves and us too, they certainly can support
themselves alone. Lisette has paid eight dollars a month
to her mistress, and supported herself besides. I m sure
it s we that are the helpless ones! "
"Well, do you think your Aunt Nesbit is going to fol
low your example ? "
"No! catch her at it! Aunt Nesbit is doubly fortified
in her religion. She is so satisfied with something or
other about * cursed be Canaan, that she d let Milly earn
ten dollars a month for her, all the year round, and never
trouble her head about taking every bit of it. Some folks,
you know, have a way of calling everything they want to
do a dispensation of Providence! Now, Aunt Nesbit is
one of em. She always calls it a dispensation that the
negroes were brought over here, and a dispensation that
we are the mistresses. Ah ! Milly will not get free while
Aunt Nesbit is alive ! And do you know, though it does
not seem very generous in me, yet I m resigned to it,
because Milly is such a good soul, and such a comfort to
me? Do you know she seems a great deal more like a
mother to me than Aunt Nesbit? Why, I really think,
if Milly had been educated as we are, she would have
190 DEED
made a most splendid woman been a perfect Candace
queen of Ethiopia. There s a vast deal that is curious and
interesting in some of these old Africans. I always did
love to be with them; some of them are so shrewd and
original! But I wonder, now, what Tom will think of
my cutting him out so neatly ? T will make him angry,
I suppose."
"Oh, perhaps, after all, he had no real intention of
doing anything of the kind," said Clayton. "He may
have said it merely for bravado."
"I should have thought so, if I hadn t known that he
always had a grudge against Harry."
At this moment the galloping of a horse was heard in
the woodland path before them; and very soon Tom Gor
don appeared in sight, accompanied by another man, on
horseback, with whom he was in earnest conversation.
There was something about the face of this man which, at
the first glance, Nina felt to be very repulsive. He was
low, thick-set, and yet lean; his features were thin and
sharp; his hair and eyebrows bushy and black, and a pair
of glassy, pale blue eyes formed a peculiar contrast to their
darkness. There was something in the expression of the
eye which struck Nina as hard and cold. Though the
man was habited externally as a gentleman, there was still
about him an underbred appearance, which could be de
tected at the first glance, as the coarseness of some woods
will reveal themselves through every varnish.
"Good-morrow, Nina," said her brother, drawing his
horse up to meet hers, and signing to his companion to
arrest his also. "Allow me to present to you my friend,
Mr. Jekyl. We are going out to visit the Belleville plan
tation. "
" I wish you a pleasant ride ! " said Nina. And touch
ing her horse, she passed them in a moment. Looking back
almost fiercely, a moment, she turned and said to Clayton:
TOM GORDON 191
"I hate that man!"
"Who is it? " said Clayton.
"I don t know!" said Nina. "I never saw him be
fore. But I hate him! He is a bad man! I d as soon
have a serpent come near me as that man ! "
"Well, the poor fellow s face isn t prepossessing," said
Clayton. "But I should not be prepared for such an
anathema. "
"Tom s badness," continued Nina, speaking as if she
were following out a train of thought, without regarding
her companion s remark, "is good turned to bad. It s
wine turned to vinegar. But this man don t even know
what good is ! "
"How can you be so positive about a person that
you ve only seen once ! " said Clayton.
"Oh," said Nina, resuming her usual gay tones, "don t
you know that girls and dogs, and other inferior creatures,
have the gift of seeing what s in people? It doesn t be
long to highly cultivated folks like you, but to us poor
creatures, who have to trust to our instincts. So, beware ! "
And as she spoke, she turned to him with a fascinating
air of half-saucy defiance.
"Well," said Clayton, "have you seen, then, what is
in me 1 "
"Yes, to be sure!" said Nina with energy; "I knew
what you were the very first time I saw you. And that s
the reason why "
Clayton made an eager gesture, and his eye met hers
with a sudden flash of earnestness. She stopped, and
blushed, and then laughed.
"What, Nina?"
"Oh, well, I always thought you were a grandfatherly
body, and that you wouldn t take advantage of us girls,
as some of the men do. And so I ve treated you with
confidence, as you know. I had just the same feeling that
192 DEED
you could be trusted, as I have that that other fellow can
not!"
"Well," said Clayton, "that deduction suits me so well
that I should be sorry to undermine your faith. Never
theless, I must say such a way of judging is n t always
safe. Instinct may be a greater matter than we think;
yet it isn t infallible, any more than our senses. We try
the testimony even of our eyesight by reason. It will
deceive us, if we don t. Much more we ought to try this
more subtle kind of sight."
"Maybe so," said Nina; "yet I don t think I shall
like that man, after all. But I 11 give him a chance to
alter my feeling, by treating him civilly if Tom brings him
back to dinner. That s the best I can do."
CHAPTER XIV
AUNT NESBIT S LOSS
ON entering the house, Nina was met at the door by
Milly, with a countenance of some anxiety.
"Miss Nina," she said, "your aunt has heard bad news
this morning. "
" Bad news ! " said Nina quickly " what 1 "
"Well, honey, ye see dere has been a lawyer here," said
Milly, following Nina as she was going upstairs; "and
she has been shut up with him all de mornin ; and when
he come out I found her taking on quite dreadful! And
she says she has lost all her property."
"Oh! is that all?" said Nina. "I didn t know what
dreadful thing might have happened. Why, Milly, this
isn t so very bad. She hadn t much to lose."
"Oh, bless you, chile! nobody wants to lose all they
got, much or little ! "
"Yes; but," said Nina, "you know she can always live
here with us; and what little money she wants to fuss
with, to buy new caps, and paregoric for her cough, and
all such little matters, we can give her, easily enough."
"Ah, Miss Nina, your heart is free enough; you d give
away both ends of the rainbow, if you had em to give.
But the trouble is, chile, you haven t got em. Why,
chile, dis yer great place, and so many mouths opened to
eat and eat, chile, I tell you it takes heaps to keep it
a-going. And Harry, I tell you, finds it hard work to
bring it even all the year round, though he never says
nothing to you about his troubles, wants you always to
194 DEED
walk on flowers, with both hands full, and never think
where they come from. I tell you what, chile, we s houn
to think for you a little; and I tell you what, I s jist
a-going to hire out."
" Why, Milly, how ridiculous ! "
"It ain t ridiculous, now. Why, just look on it, Miss
Nina. Here s Miss Loo, dat s one; here s me, dat s
two; here s Polly, great grown girl, three; dere s
Tomtit, four; all on us eating your bread, and not bring
ing in a cent to you, cause all on us together ain t done
much more than wait on Miss Loo. Why, you s got ser
vants enough of your own to do every turn that wants
doing in dis yer house. I know, Miss Nina, young ladies
don t like to hear about dese things; but the fac is, vict
uals cost something, and dere must be some on us to bring
in something. Now, dat ar gentleman what talked with
your aunt, he said he could find me a right good place up
dar to the town, and I was jest a-going. Sally, she is
big enough now to do everything that I have been used
to doing for Miss Loo, and I am jest a-going; besides, to
tell you the truth, I think Miss Loo has kind o set her
heart upon it. You know she is a weakly kind of thing,
don t know how to do much cept sit in her chair and
groan. She has always been so used to having me make
a way for her; and when I told her about dis yer, she
kind o brightened up."
"But, Milly, what shall I do? I can t spare you at
all," said Nina.
"Law bless you, chile! don t you suppose I s got eyes?
I tell you, Miss Nina, I looked that gen leman over pretty
well for you, and my opinion is he 11 do."
" Oh, come, you hush ! " said Nina.
"You see, chile, it wouldn t be everybody that our
people would be willing to have come on to de place, here,
but there ain t one of em that wouldn t go in for dis yar,
AUNT NESBIT S LOSS 195
now I tell you. Dere s Old Hundred, as you calls him,
told me twas just as good as a meeting to hear him read
ing de prayers dat ar day at de funeral. Now, you see,
I s seen gen lemen handsome, and rich, and right pleasant,
too, dat de people wouldn t want at all; cause why? dey
has dere frolics and drinks, and de money flies one way for
dis ting and one way for dat, till by and by it s all gone.
Den comes de sheriff, and de people is all sold, some one
way and some another way. Now, Mr. Clayton, he ain t
none of dem."
"But, Milly, all this may be very well; but if I could n t
love him ? "
" Law sakes, Miss Nina ! You look me in the face and
tell me dat ar? Why, chile, it s plain enough to see
through you. "T is so! The people s all pretty sure, by
this time. Sakes alive, we s used to looking out for the
weather; and we knows pretty well what s coming. And
now, Miss Nina, you go right along and give him a good
word, cause you see, dear lamb, you need a good husband
to take care of you, dat s what you want, chile. Girls
like you has a hard life being at the head of a place, espe
cially your brother being just what he is. Now, if you
had a husband here, Mas r Tom ud be quiet, cause he
knows he couldn t do nothing. But just as long as you s
alone he 11 plague you. But, now, chile, it s time for
you to be getting ready for dinner. 7
"Oh, but, do you know, Milly," said Nina, "I ve some
thing to tell you, which I had liked to have forgotten ! I
have been out to the Belleville plantation, and bought
Harry s wife."
"You has, Miss Nina! Why, de Lord bless you!
Why, Harry was dreadful worked, dis yer morning, bout
what Mas r Tom said. Feared like he was most crazy."
"Well," said Nina, "I ve done it. I ve got the receipt
here."
196 DEED
"Why, but, chile, where alive did you get all the money
to pay right sudden so 1 "
"Mr. Clayton lent it to me," said Nina.
"Mr. Clayton! Now, chile, didn t I tell you so? Do
you suppose, now, you d a let him lend you dat ar money
if you hadn t liked him? But, come, chile, hurry!
Dere s Mas r Tom and dat other gen leman coming back,
and you must be down to dinner."
The company assembled at the dinner-table was not par
ticularly enlivening. Tom Gordon, who, in the course of
his morning ride, had discovered the march which his
sister had stolen upon him, was more sulky and irritable
than usual, though too proud to make any allusion to the
subject. Nina was annoyed by the presence of Mr. Jekyl,
whom her brother insisted should remain to dinner. Aunt
Nesbit was uncommonly doleful, of course. Clayton, who
in mixed society generally took the part of a listener
rather than a talker, said very little; and had it not been
for Carson, there s no saying whether any of the company
could have spoken. Every kind of creature has its uses,
and there are times when a lively, unthinking chatterbox
is a perfect godsend. Those unperceiving people, who
never notice the embarrassment of others, and who walk
with the greatest facility into the gaps of conversation,
simply because they have no perception of any difficulty
there, have their hour; and Nina felt positively grateful
to Mr. Carson for the continuous and cheerful rattle which
had so annoyed her the day before. Carson drove a brisk
talk with the lawyer about the value of property, percent
age,- etc. ; he sympathized with Aunt Nesbit on her last-
caught cold, rallied Tom on his preoccupation, compli
mented Nina on her improved color from her ride, and
seemed on such excellent terms both with himself and
everybody else that the thing was really infectious.
"What do you call your best investments, down here,
land, eh ? " he said to Mr. Jekyl.
AUNT NESBIT S LOSS 197
Mr. Jekyl shook his head.
"Land deteriorates too fast. Besides, there s all the
trouble and risk of overseers, and all that. I ve looked this
thing over pretty well, and I always invest in niggers."
" Ah ! " said Mr. Carson, " you do ? "
"Yes, sir, I invest in niggers; that s what I do; and I
hire them out, sir, hire them out. Why, sir, if a man
has a knowledge of human nature, knows where to buy
and when to buy, and watches his opportunity, he gets a
better percentage on his money that way than any other.
Now, that was what I was telling Mrs. Nesbit, this morn
ing. Say, now, that you give one thousand dollars for a
man, and I always buy the best sort, that s economy,
well, and he gets put it at the lowest figure ten dol
lars a month wages, and his living. Well, you see there,
that gives you a pretty handsome sum for your money. I
have a good talent of buying. I generally prefer mechan
ics. I have got now working for me three bricklayers. I
own two firstrate carpenters, and last month I bought a
perfect jewel of a blacksmith. He is an uncommonly in
genious man; a fellow that will make, easy, his fifteen
dollars a month; and he is the more valuable because he
has been religiously brought up. Why, some of them,
now, will cheat you, if they can ; but this fellow has been
brought up in a district where they have a missionary, and
a great deal of pains has been taken to form his religious
principles. Now, this fellow would no more think of
touching a cent of his earnings than he would of stealing
right out of my pocket. I tell people about him, some
times, when I find them opposed to religious instruction.
I tell them, See there, now you see how godliness is
profitable to the life that now is. You know the Scrip
tures, Mrs. Nesbit?"
"Yes," said Aunt Nesbit, "I always believed in reli
gious education."
198 DEED
"Confound it all!" said Tom, "I don t! I don t see
the use of making a set of hypocritical sneaks of them!
I d make niggers bring me my money; but, hang it all,
if he came snuffling to me, pretending twas his duty, I d
choke him! They never think so, they don t and they
can t, and it s all hypocrisy, this religious instruction, as
you call it ! "
"No, it isn t," said the undiscouraged Mr. Jekyl, "not
when you found it on right principles. Take them early
enough, and work them right, you 11 get it ground into
them. Now, when they begun religious instruction, there
was a great prejudice against it in our part of the country.
You see they were afraid that the niggers would get
uppish. Ah, but you see the missionaries are pretty care
ful ; they put it in strong in the catechisms about the rights
of the master. You see the instruction is just grounded
on this, that the master stands in God s place to them."
"D d bosh!" said Tom Gordon.
Aunt Nesbit looked across the table as if she were going
to faint. But Mr. Jekyl s composure was not in the
slightest degree interrupted.
"I can tell you," he said, "that, in a business, practical
view, for I am used to investments, that, since the
publishing of those catechisms, and the missionaries work
among the niggers, the value of that kind of property has
risen ten per cent. They are better contented. They
don t run away, as they used to. Just that simple idea
that their master stands in God s place to them. Why,
you see, it cuts its way."
"I have a radical objection to all that kind of instruc
tion," said Clayton.
Aunt Nesbit opened her eyes, as if she could hardly
believe her hearing.
"And pray what is your objection?" said Mr. Jekyl,
with an unmoved countenance.
AUNT NESBIT S LOSS 199
"My objection is that it is all a lie," said Clayton in
such a positive tone that everybody looked at him with a
start.
Clayton was one of those silent men who are seldom
roused to talk, but who go with a rush when they are.
Not seeming to notice the startled looks of the company,
he went on: "It s a worse lie, because it s told to be
wilder a simple, ignorant, confiding creature. I never
could conceive how a decent man could ever look another
man in the face and say such things. I remember reading,
in one of the missionary reports, that when this doctrine
was first propounded in an assembly of negroes somewhere,
all the most intelligent of them got up and walked deliber
ately out of the house ; and I honor them for it. "
"Good for them! " said Tom Gordon. "I can keep my
niggers down without any such stuff as that ! "
"I have no doubt," said Clayton, "that these mission
aries are well-intending, good men, and that they actually
think the only way to get access to the negroes at all is to
be very positive in what will please the masters. But I
think they fall into the same error that the Jesuits did
when they adulterated Christianity with idolatry in order
to get admission in Japan. A lie never works well in
religion, nor in morals."
"That s what I believe," said Nina warmly.
"But then, if you can t teach them this, what can you
teach them ? " said Mr. Jekyl.
"Confound it all! " said Tom Gordon, "teach them that
you ve got the power! teach them the weight of your
fist! That s enough for them. I am bad enough, I
know; but I can t bear hypocrisy. I show a fellow my
pistol. I say to him, You see that, sir ! I tell him, You
do so and so, and you shall have a good time with me.
But you do that, and I 11 thrash you within an inch of
your life! That s my short method with niggers, and
200 DEED
poor whites, too. When one of these canting fellows
comes round to my plantation, let him see what he 11 get,
that s all! 7
Mr. Jekyl appeared properly shocked at this declaration.
Aunt Nesbit looked as if it was just what she had ex
pected, and went on eating her potato with a mournful air,
as if nothing could surprise her. Nina looked excessively
annoyed, and turned a sort of appealing glance upon Clay
ton.
"For my part," said Clayton, "I hase my religious in
struction to my people on the ground that every man and
every woman must give an account of themselves to God
alone; and that God is to be obeyed first, and before
me."
"Why," said Mr. Jekyl, "that would be destructive of
all discipline. If you are going to allow every fellow to
judge for himself, among a parcel of ignorant, selfish
wretches, what the will of God is, one will think it s one
thing, another will think it s another; and there will be
an end of all order. It would be absolutely impossible to
govern a place in that way."
"They must not be left an ignorant set," said Clayton.
"They must be taught to read the Scriptures for them
selves, and be able to see that my authority accords with
it. If I command anything contrary to it, they ought to
oppose it ! "
"Ah! I should like to see a plantation managed in
that way ! " said Tom Gordon scornfully.
"Please God, you shall see such an one, if you 11 come
to mine," said Clayton, "where I should be very happy
to see you, sir."
The tone in which this was said was so frank and sin
cere that Tom was silenced, and could not help a rather
sullen acknowledgment.
"I think," said Mr. Jekyl, "that you ll find such a
AUNT NESBIT S LOSS 201
course, however well it may work at first, will fail at last.
You begin to let people think, and they won t stop where
you want them to; they 11 go too far; it s human nature.
The more you give, the more you may give. You once
get your fellows to thinking, and asking all sorts of ques
tions, and they get discontented at once. I ve seen that
thing tried in one or two instances, and it didn t turn out
well. Fellows got restless and discontented. The more
was given to them, the more dissatisfied they grew, till
finally they put for the free states."
"Very well," said Clayton; "if that s to be the result,
they may all put as soon as they can get ready. If my
title to them won t bear an intelligent investigation, I
don t wish to keep them. But I never will consent to
keep them by making false statements to them in the name
of religion, and presuming to put myself as an object of
obedience before my Maker."
"I think," said Mr. Carson, "Mr. Clayton shows an
excellent spirit excellent spirit ! On my word, I think
so. I wish some of our northern agitators, who make
such a fuss on the subject, could hear him. I m always
disgusted with these Abolitionists producing such an un
pleasantness between the North and the South, interrupting
trade, and friendship, and all that sort of thing."
"He shows an excellent spirit," said Mr. Jekyl; "but
I must think he is mistaken if he thinks that he can bring
up people in that way, under our institutions, and not do
them more harm than good. It s a notorious fact that the
worst insurrections have arisen from the reading of the
Bible by these ignorant fellows. That was the case with
Nat Turner, in Virginia. That was the case with Den
mark Yesey, and his crew, in South Carolina. I tell you,
sir, it will never do, this turning out a set of ignorant
people to pasture in the Bible! That blessed book is a
savor of life unto life when it s used right; but it s a
202 DEED
savor of death unto death when ignorant people take hold
of it. The proper way is this: administer such portions
only as these creatures are capable of understanding. This
admirable system of religious instruction keeps the matter
in our own hands, by allowing us to select for them such
portions of the word as are best fitted to keep them quiet,
dutiful, and obedient; and I venture to predict that who
ever undertakes to manage a plantation on any other sys
tem will soon find it getting out of his hands."
"So you are afraid to trust the Lord s word without
holding the bridle!" said Tom, with a sneer. "That s
pretty well for you ! "
"/am not!" said Clayton. "I m willing to resign
any rights to any one that I am not able to defend in
God s word any that I cannot make apparent to any
man s cultivated reason. I scorn the idea that I must
dwarf a man s mind, and keep him ignorant and childish,
in order to make him believe any lie I choose to tell him
about my rights over him! I intend to have an educated,
intelligent people, who shall submit to me because they
think it clearly for their best interests to do so; because
they shall feel that what I command is right in the sight
of God."
"It s my opinion," said Tom, "that both these ways
of managing are humbugs. One way makes hypocrites,
and the other makes rebels. The best way of educating
is, to show folks that they can t help themselves. All the
fussing and arguing in the world is n t worth one dose of
certainty on that point. Just let them know that there
are no two ways about it, and you 11 have all still
enough. "
From this point the conversation was pursued with con
siderable warmth, till Nina and Aunt Nesbit rose and
retired to the drawing-room. Perhaps it did not materially
discourage Clayton, in the position he had taken, that
AUNT NESBIT S LOSS 203
Nina, with the frankness usual to her, expressed the most
eager and undisguised admiration of all that he said.
"Didn t he talk beautifully ? Wasn t it noble?" she
said to Aunt Nesbit, as she came in the drawing-room.
"And that hateful Jekyl! isn t he mean? "
"Child!" said Aunt Nesbit, "I m surprised to hear
you speak so! Mr. Jekyl is a very respectable lawyer, an
elder in the church, and a very pious man. He has given
me some most excellent advice about my affairs; and he is
going to take Milly with him, and find her a good place.
He s been making some investigations, Nina, and he s
going to talk to you about them, after dinner. He s dis
covered that there s an estate in Mississippi worth a hun
dred thousand dollars, that ought properly to come to
you!"
"I don t believe a word of it!" said Nina. "Don t
like the man! think he is hateful! don t want to hear
anything he has to say ! don t believe in him ! "
"Nina, how often have I warned you against such sud
den prejudices against such a good man, too!"
"You won t make me believe he is good, not if he were
elder in twenty churches ! "
"Well, but, child, at any rate you must listen to what
he has got to say. Your brother will be very angry if you
don t, and it s really very important. At any rate, you
ought not to offend Tom, when you can help it."
"That s true enough," said Nina; "and I 11 hear, and
try and behave as well as I can. I hope the man will go,
some time or other! I don t know why, but his talk
makes me feel worse than Tom s swearing! That s cer
tain."
Aunt Nesbit looked at Nina as if she considered her in
a most hopeless condition.
CHAPTER XV
MR. JEKYL S OPINIONS
AFTER the return of the gentlemen to the drawing-
room, Nina, at the request of Tom, followed him and Mr.
Jekyl into the library.
"Mr. Jekyl is going to make some statements to us,
Nina, about our property in Mississippi, which, if they turn
out as he expects, will set us up in the world," said Tom.
Nina threw herself carelessly into the leather armchair
by the window, and looked out of it.
"You see," said Mr. Jekyl, also seating himself, and
pulling out the stiff points of his collar, "having done law
business for your father, and known, in that way, a good
deal about the family property, I have naturally always
felt a good deal of interest in it; and you remember your
father s sister, Mrs. Stewart, inherited, on the death of her
husband, a fine estate in Mississippi."
"I remember," said Tom, "well, go on."
"Well, she died, and left it all to her son. Well, he,
it seems like some other young men, lived in a very repre
hensible union with a handsome quadroon girl, who was
his mother s maid; and she, being an artful creature, I
suppose, as a great many of them are, got such an ascend
ency over him that he took her up to Ohio, and married
her, and lived there with her some years, and had two
children by her. Well, you see, he had a deed of emanci
pation recorded for her in Mississippi, and just taking her
into Ohio, set her free by the laws of that state. Well,
you see, he thought he d fixed it so that the thing could n t
MR. JEKYL S OPINIONS 205
be undone, and she thought so too; and I understand
she s a pretty shrewd woman has a considerable share
of character, or else she would n t have done just what she
has; for, you see, he died about six months ago, and left
the plantation and all the property to her and her children,
and she has been so secure that she has actually gone and
taken possession. You see, she is so near white, you
must know that there isn t one in twenty would think
what she was, and the people round there, actually,
some of them, had forgotten all about it, and didn t know
but what she was a white woman from Ohio; and so, you
see, the thing never would have been looked into at all, if
I had n t happened to have been down there. But, you
see, she turned off an overseer that had managed the place,
because the people complained of him; and I happened to
fall in with the man, and he began telling me his story,
and after a little inquiry, I found who these people were.
Well, sir, I just went to one of the first lawyers, for I
suspected there was false play; and we looked over the
emancipation laws together, and we found out that, as the
law stood, the deed of emancipation was no more than so
much waste paper. And so, you see, she and her children
are just as much slaves as any on her plantation; and the
whole property, which is worth a hundred thousand dol
lars, belongs to your family. I rode out with him, and
looked over the place, and got introduced to her and her
children, and looked them over. Considered as property,
I should call them a valuable lot. She is past forty, but
she don t look older than twenty-seven or twenty-eight, I
should say. She is a very good-looking woman, and then,
I J m told, a very capable woman. Well, her price in the
market might range between one thousand and fifteen hun
dred dollars. Smalley said he had seen no better article
sold for two thousand dollars; but then, he said, they
had to give a false certificate as to the age, and that I
206 DEED
couldn t hear of, for I never countenance anything like
untruth. Then, the woman s children: she has got two
fine-looking children as I have ever seen almost white.
The boy is about ten years old; the little girl, about four.
You may be sure I was pretty careful not to let on, be
cause I consider the woman and children are an important
part of the property, and, of course, nothing had better be
said about it, lest she should be off before we are ready to
come down on them. Now, you see, you Gordons are the
proper owners of this whole property; there isn t the
slightest doubt in my mind that you ought to put in your
claim immediately. The act of emancipation was contrary
to law, and though the man meant well, yet it amounted
to a robbery of the heirs. I declare, it rather raised my
indignation to see that creature so easy in the possession
of property which of right belongs to you. Now, if I
have only the consent of the heirs, I can go on and com
mence operations immediately."
Nina had been sitting regarding Mr. Jekyl with a fixed
and determined expression of countenance. When he had
finished, she said to him,
"Mr. Jekyl, I understand you are an elder in the
church ; is that true ? "
"Yes, Miss Gordon, I have that privilege," said Mr.
Jekyl, his sharp, business tone subsiding into a sigh.
"Because," said Nina, "I am a wild young girl, and
don t profess to know much about religion; but I want
you to tell me, as a Christian, if you think it would be
right to take this woman and children, and her property."
"Why, certainly, my dear Miss Gordon; isn t it right
that every one should have his own property? I view
things simply with the eye of the law; and in the eye of
the law that woman and her children are as much your
property as the shoe on your foot; there is no manner of
doubt of it."
MR. JEKYL S OPINIONS 207
"I should think," said Nina, "that you might see with
the eye of the gospel, sometimes! Do you think, Mr.
Jekyl, that doing this is doing as I should wish to be
done by, if I were in the place of this woman ? "
"My dear Miss Gordon, young ladies of fine feeling, at
your time of life, are often confused on this subject by a
wrong application of the Scripture language. Suppose I
were a robber, and had possession of your property ? Of
course, I shouldn t wish to be made to give it up. But
would it follow that the golden rule obliged the lawful
possessor not to take it from me? This woman is your
property; this estate is your property, and she is holding
it as unlawfully as a robber. Of course, she won t want
to give it up; but right is right, notwithstanding."
Like many other young persons, Nina could feel her
way out of sophistry much sooner than she could think it
out; and she answered to all this reasoning,
"After all, I can t think it would be right."
"Oh, confound the humbug!" said Tom; "who cares
whether it is right or not? The fact is, Nin, to speak
plain sense to you, you and I both are deuced hard up for
money, and want all \ve can get; and what s the use of
being more religious than the very saints themselves at our
time of day ? Mr. Jekyl is a pious man one of the tall
est kind ! He thinks this is all right, and why need we
set ourselves all up? He has talked with Uncle John,
and he goes in for it. As for my part, I am free to own
I don t care whether it s right or not! I ll do it if I
can. Might makes right, that s my doctrine ! "
"Why," said Mr. Jekyl, "I have examined the subject,
and I haven t the slightest doubt that slavery is a di
vinely appointed institution, and that the rights of the
masters are sanctioned by God; so however much I may
naturally feel for this woman, whose position is, I must
say, an unfortunate one, still it is my duty to see that the
law is properly administered in the case."
208 DEED
"All I have to say, Mr. Jekyl," said Nina, "is just
this: that I won t have anything to do with this matter;
for, if I can t prove it s wrong, I shall always feel it is."
"Nina, how ridiculous!" said Tom.
"I have said my say," said Nina, as she rose and left
the room.
"Very natural, fine feelings, but uninstructed, " said
Mr. Jekyl.
"Certainly, we pious folks know a trick worth two of
that, don t we?" said Tom. "I say, Jekyl, this sister of
mine is a pretty rapid little case, I can tell you, as you
saw by the way she circumvented us this morning. She
is quite capable of upsetting the whole dish, unless we go
about it immediately. You see, her pet nigger, this Harry,
is this woman s brother; and if she gave him the word,
he d write at once, and put her on the alarm. You and
I had better start off to-morrow, before this Harry comes
back. I believe he is to be gone a few days. It s no
matter whether she consents to the suit or not. She don t
need to know anything about it."
"Well," said Jekyl, "I advise you to go right on, and
have the woman and children secured. It s a perfectly
fair, legal proceeding. There has been an evident evasion
of the law of the state, by means of which your family are
defrauded of an immense sum. At all events, it will be
tried in an open court of justice, and she will be allowed
to appear by her counsel. It s a perfectly plain, above-
board proceeding ; and as the young lady has shown such
fine feelings, there s the best reason to suppose that the
fate of this woman would be as good in her hands as in
her own."
Mr. Jekyl was not now talking to convince Tom Gor
don, but himself; for spite of himself, Nina s questions
had awakened in his mind a sufficient degree of misgiving
to make it necessary for him to pass in review the argu-
MR. JEKYL S OPINIONS 209
merits by which he generally satisfied himself. Mr. Jekyl
was a theologian, and a man of principle. His metaphy
sical talent, indeed, made him a point of reference among
his Christian brethren; and he spent much of his leisure
time in reading theological treatises. His favorite subject
of all was the nature of true virtue; and this, he had fixed
in his mind, consisted in a love of the greatest good. Ac
cording to his theology, right consisted in creating the
greatest amount of happiness; and every creature had
rights to be happy in proportion to his capacity of enjoy
ment or being. He whose capacity was ten pounds had
a right to place his own happiness before that of him who
had five, because, in that way, five pounds more of happi
ness would exist in the general whole. He considered the
right of the Creator to consist in the fact that he had a
greater amount of capacity than all creatures put together,
and, therefore, was bound to promote his own happiness
before all of them put together. He believed that the
Creator made himself his first object in all that He did;
and, descending from Him, all creatures were to. follow the
same rule, in proportion to their amount of being; the
greater capacity of happiness always taking precedence of
the less. Thus, Mr. Jekyl considered that the Creator
brought into the world yearly myriads of human beings
with no other intention than to make them everlastingly
miserable; and that this was right, because his capacity of
enjoyment being greater than all theirs put together, He
had a right to gratify himself in this way.
Mr. Jekyl s belief in slavery was founded on his theo
logy. He assumed that the white race had the largest
amount of being; therefore, it had a right to take prece
dence of the black. On this point he held long and severe
arguments with his partner, Mr. Israel McFogg, who,
belonging to a different school of theology, referred the
whole matter to no natural fitness, but to a divine decree,
VOL. I.
210 DRED
by which it pleased the Creator in the time of Noah to
pronounce a curse upon Canaan. The fact that the Afri
can race did not descend from Canaan was, it is true, a
slight difficulty in the chain of the argument; but theo
logians are daily in the habit of surmounting much greater
ones. Either way, whether by metaphysical fitness or
divine decree, the two partners attained the same practical
result.
Mr. Jekyl, though a coarse-grained man, had started
from the hands of nature no more hard hearted or unfeel
ing than many others; but his mind, having for years been
immersed in the waters of law and theology, had slowly
petrified into such a steady consideration of the greatest
general good, that he was wholly inaccessible to any emo
tion of particular humanity. The trembling, eager tone
of pity, in which Nina had spoken of the woman and chil
dren who were about to be made victims of a legal process,
had excited but a moment s pause. What considerations
of temporal loss and misery can shake the constancy of the
theologian who has accustomed himself to contemplate and
discuss, as a cool intellectual exercise, the eternal misery
of generations 1 who worships a God that creates myriads
only to glorify himself in their eternal torments?
CHAPTER XVI
spent the evening in the drawing-room; and her
brother, in the animation of a new pursuit, forgetful of
the difference of the morning, exerted himself to be agree
able, and treated her with more consideration and kindness
than he had done any time since his arrival. He even
made some off-hand advances towards Clayton, which the
latter received with good humor, and which went further
than she supposed to raise the spirits of Nina; and so, on
the whole, she passed a more than usually agreeable even
ing. On retiring to her room, she found Milly, who had
been for some time patiently waiting for her, having dis
patched her mistress to bed some time since.
"Well, Miss Nina, I am going on my travels in de
morning. Thought I must have a little time to see you,
lamb, fore I goes."
"I can t bear to have you go, Milly! I don t like that
man you are going with."
"I spects he s a nice man," said Milly. "Of course
he 11 look me out a nice place, because he has always took
good care of Miss Loo s affairs. So you never trouble
yourself bout me! I tell you, chile, I never gets where
I can t find de Lord; and when I finds Him, I gets along.
De Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
"But you have never been used to living except in our
family," said Nina, "and, somehow, I feel afraid. If
they don t treat you well, come back, Milly; will you?"
"Laws, chile, I isn t much feard but what I ll get
212 DEED
along well enough. When people keep about dere busi
ness, doing de best dey ken, folks doesn t often trouble
dem. I never yet seed de folks I couldn t suit," she
added, with a glow of honest pride. "No, chile, it isn t
for myself I s fearing; it s just for you, chile. Chile,
you don t know what it is to live in dis yer world, and
I wants you to get de Best Friend to go with you. Why,
dear lamb, you wants somebody to go to and open your
heart; somebody dat 11 love you, and always stand by
you; somebody dat 11 always lead you right, you know.
You has more cares than such a young thing ought for to
have; great many looking to you, and pending on you.
Now, if your ma was alive, it would be different; but
just now, I see how tis; dere 11 be a hundred things
you 11 be thinking and feeling, and nobody to say em to.
And now, chile, you must learn to go to de Lord. Why,
chile, He loves you! Chile, He loves you just as you
be ; if you only saw how much, it would melt your heart
right down. I told you I was going some time fur to tell
you my sperience how I first found Jesus. Oh Lord,
Lord ! but it is a long story. "
Nina, whose quick sympathies were touched by the
earnestness of her old friend, and still more aroused by the
allusion to her mother, answered,
"Oh yes, come, tell me about it!" And drawing a
low ottoman, she sat down, and laid her head on the lap
of her humble friend.
"Well, well, you see, chile," said Milly, her large dark
eyes fixing themselves on vacancy, and speaking in a slow
and dreamy voice, "a body s life, in dis yer world, is a
mighty strange thing ! You see, chile, my mother well,
dey brought her from Africa; my father, too. Heaps and
heaps my mother has told me about dat ar. Dat ar was
a mighty fine country, where dey had gold in the rivers,
and such great, big, tall trees, with de strangest beautiful
MILLY S STORY 213
flowers on them you ever did see ! Laws, laws ! well, dey
brought my mother and my father into Charleston, and
dere Mr. Campbell, dat was your ma s father, honey,
he bought dem right out of de ship; but dey had five chil
dren, and dey was all sold, and dey never knowed where
dey went to. Father and mother couldn t speak a word
of English when dey come ashore; and she told me often
how she couldn t speak a word to nobody, to tell em how
it hurt her.
"Laws, when I was a chile, I member how often,
when de day s work was done, she used to come out and
sit and look up at de stars, and groan, groan, and groan !
I was a little thing, playing round; and I used to come
up to her, dancing, and saying,
" Mammy, what makes you groan so ? what s de matter
of you ?
" Matter enough, chile ! she used to say. I s a-think-
ing of my poor children. I likes to look at de stars, be
cause dey sees de same stars dat I do. Pears like we was
in one room; but I don t know where dey is! Dey don t
know where I be !
"Den she d say to me,
" Now, chile, you may be sold away from your mammy.
Der s no knowing what may happen to you, chile; but
if you gets into any trouble, as I does, you mind, chile,
you ask God to help you.
" Who is God, mammy, says I, anyhow ?
" Why, chile, says she, * He made dese yer stars.
"And den I wanted mammy to tell me more about it;
only she says,
" He can do anything he likes; and if ye are in any
kind of trouble, He can help you.
"Well, to be sure, I didn t mind much about it all
dancing round, because pretty well don t need much help.
But she said dat ar to me so many times, I could n t help
214 DEED
member it. Chile, troubles will come; and when dey
does come, you ask God, and He will help you.
"Well, sure enough, I wasn t sold from her, but she
was took from me, because Mr. Campbell s brother went
off to live in Orleans, and parted de hands. My father
and mother was took to Orleans, and I was took to Vir-
ginny. Well, you see, I growed up along with de young
ladies, your ma, Miss Harrit, Miss Loo, and de rest on
em, and I had heaps of fun. Dey all like Milly. Dey
couldn t nobody run, nor jump, nor ride a horse, nor row
a boat, like Milly; and so it was Milly here, and Milly
dere, and whatever de young ladies wanted, it was Milly
made de way for it.
"Well, dere was a great difference among dem young
ladies. Dere was Miss Loo she was de prettiest, and
she had a great many beaux; but den, dere was your ma
everybody loved her ; and den dere was Miss Harrit
she had right smart of life in her, and was always for
doing something always right busy tending to some
thing or other, and she liked me because I d always go in
with her. Well, well! dem dar was pleasant times
enough; but when I got to be about fourteen or fifteen,
I began to feel kind o bad sort of strange and heavy.
I really didn t know why, but peared like s when I got
older, I felt I was in bondage.
" Member one day your ma came in, and seed me look
ing out of window, and she says to me,
" Milly, what makes you so dull lately ?
" Oh, says I, I, somehow, I don t have good times.
" Why ? says she; why not? Don t everybody make
much of you, and don t you have everything that you
want 1
" Oh, well, says I, missis, I s a poor slave-girl, for
alldat.
"Chile, your ma was a weety thing, like you. I mem-
MILLY S STORY 215
ber just how she looked dat minute. I felt sorry, cause
I thought I d hurt her feelings. But says she,
" Milly, I don t wonder you feel so. I know I should
feel so myself, if I was in your place.
"Afterwards, she told Miss Loo and Miss Harrit; but
dey laughed, and said dey guessed der wasn t many girls
who were as well off as Milly. Well, den, Miss Harrit,
she was married de first. She married Mr. Charles Blair;
and when she was married, nothing was to do but she
must have me to go with her. I liked Miss Harrit ; but
den, honey, I d liked it much better if it had been your
ma. I d always counted that I wanted to belong to your
ma, and I think your ma wanted me; but den, she was
still, and Miss Harrit she was one of de sort dat never lost
nothing by not asking for it. She was one of de sort dat
always got things by hook or by crook. She always had
more clothes, and more money, and more everything, dan
de rest of them, cause she was always wide awake, and
looking out for herself.
"Well, Mr. Blair s place was away off in another part
of Virginny, and I went dere with her. Well, she wa n t
very happy, noways, she wa n t; because Mr. Blair, he
was a high fellow. Laws, Miss Nina, when I tells you
dis yere one you ve got here is a good one, and I vise
you to take him, it s because I knows what comes o girls
marrying high fellows. Don t care how good looking dey
is, nor what dere manners is, it s just de ruin of girls
that has them. Law, when he was a-courting Miss Harrit,
it was all nobody but her. She was going to be his angel,
and he was going to give up all sorts of bad ways, and
live such a good life ! Ah ! she married him ; it all went
to smoke! Fore de month was well over he got a-going
in his old ways; and den it was go, go, all de time, carous
ing and drinking, parties at home, parties abroad,
money flying like de water.
216 DEED
"Well, dis made a great change in Miss Harrit. She
didn t laugh no more; she got sharp and cross, and she
wa n t good to me like what she used to be. She took to
be jealous of me and her husband. She might have saved
herself de trouble. I shouldn t have touched him with a
pair of tongs. But he was always running after every
thing that came in his way; so no wonder. But tween
them both I led a bad life of it.
"Well, things dragged kind along in this way. She
had three children, and at last he was killed, one day,
falling off his horse when he was too drunk to hold the
bridle. Good riddance, too, I thought. And den, after
he s dead, Miss Harrit, she seemed to grow more quiet
like, and setting herself picking up what pieces and crumbs
was left for her and de children. And I member she had
one of her uncles dere a good many days helping her in
counting up de debts. Well, dey was talking one day in
missis room, and dere was a little light closet on one side,
where I got set down to do some fine stitching; but dey
was too busy in their counts to think anything bout me.
It seemed dat de place and de people was all to be sold off
to pay de debts, all cept a few of us, who were to go
off with missis, and begin again on a small place, and I
heard him telling her about it.
" While your children are small, he says, you can
live small, and keep things close, and raise enough on the
place for ye all; and den you can be making the most of
your property. Niggers is rising in de market. Since
Missouri came in, they s worth double; and so you can
just sell de increase of em for a good sum. Now, there s
that black girl Milly, of yourn. You may be sure,
now, I pricked up my ears, Miss Nina. You don t
often see a girl of finer breed than she is, says he, just as
if I d been a cow, you know. Have you got her a hus
band?
MILLY S STORY 217
" No, said Miss Harrit; and then says she, I believe
Milly is something of a coquette among the young men.
She s never settled on anybody yet, says she.
" Well, says he, that must be attended to, cause
that girl s children will be an estate of themselves. Why,
I ve known women to have twenty ! and her children
wouldn t any of em be worth less than eight hundred
dollars. There s a fortune at once. If dey s like her,
dey 11 be as good as cash in the market, any day. You
can send out and sell one, if you happen to be in any
straits, just as soon as you can draw a note on the bank.
"Oh, laws, Miss Nina, I tell you dis yer fell on me like
so much lead. Cause, you see, I d been keeping com
pany with a very nice young man, and I was going to ask
Miss Harrit about it dat very day ; but, dere I laid
down my work dat minute, and thinks, says I, True as
de Lord s in heaven I won t never be married in dis
world! And I cried bout it, off and on, all day, and
at night I told Paul bout it. He was de one, you know.
But Paul, he tried to make it all smooth. He guessed it
wouldn t happen; he guessed missis would think better
on t. At any rate, we loved each other, and why
should n t we take as much comfort as we could? Well,
I went to Miss Harrit, and told her just what I thought
bout it. Allers had spoke my mind to Miss Harrit bout
everything, and I wa n t going to stop den. And she
laughed at me, and told me not to cry fore I s hurt.
Well, things went on so two or three weeks, and finally
Paul he persuaded me. And so we was married. When
our first child was born, Paul was so pleased, he thought
strange that I wa n t.
" Paul, said I, dis yer child ain t ourn; it maybe
took from us, and sold, any day.
"Well, well, says he, Milly, it may be God s child,
anyway, even if it ain t ourn.
218 DEED
" Cause, you see, Miss Nina, Paul, he was a Christian.
Ah, well, honey, I can t tell you; after dat I had a great
many chiPen, girls and boys, growing up round me.
Well, I s had fourteen chiPen, dear, and dey s all been
sold from me, every single one of em. Lord, it s a
heavy cross! heavy, heavy! None knows but dem dat
bears it ! "
"What a shame!" said Nina. "How could Aunt
Harriet be such a wicked woman ! an aunt of mine do
so!"
"Chile, chile," said Milly, "we doesn t none of us
know what s in us. When Miss Harrit and I was gals
together, hunting hens eggs and rowing de boat in de
river, well, I wouldn t have thought it would have been
so, and she wouldn t have thought so, neither. But den,
what little s bad in girls when dey s young and hand
some, and all de world smiling on em Oh, honey, it
gets drefful strong when dey gets grown women, and de
wrinkles comes in der faces! Always, when she was a
girl, whether it was eggs, or berries, or chincapins, or
what, it was Miss Harrit s nature to get and to keep ;
and when she got old, dat all turned to money."
"Oh! but," said Nina, "it does seem impossible that a
woman a lady born, too, and my aunt could do such
a thing!"
"Ah, ah, honey! ladies born have some bad stuff in
dem, sometimes, like de rest of us. But den, honey, it
was de most natural thing in de world, come to look on t;
for now, see here, honey, dere was your aunt she was
poor, and she was pestered for money. Dere was Mas r
George s bills and Peter s bills to pay, and Miss Susy s;
and every one of em must have everything, and dey was
all calling for money, money; and dere has been times she
did n t know which way to turn. Now, you see, when a
woman is pestered to pay two hundred here and tree hun-
MILLY S STORY 219
died dere, and when she has got more niggers on her place
dan she can keep, and den a man calls in and lays down
eight hundred dollars in gold and bills before her, and
says, I want dat ar Lucy or George of yourn, why, don t
you see 1 Dese yer soul-drivers is always round, tempting
folks dey know is poor; and dey always have der money
as handy as de devil has his. But den, I ought n t fur
to be hard upon dem poor soul- drivers, neither, cause dey
ain t taught no better. It s dese yer Christians, dat pro
fess Christ, dat makes great talks bout religion, dat has
der Bibles, and turns der backs upon swearing soul-drivers,
and tinks dey ain t fit to speak to it s dem, honey,
dat s de root of de whole business. Now, dere was dat
uncle of hern, mighty great Christian he was, with his
prayer-meetings, and all dat ! he was always a-putting
her up to it. Oh, dere s been times dere was times
long first, Miss Nina, when my first chil en was sold
dat, I tell you, I poured out my soul to Miss Harrit, and
I ve seen dat ar woman cry so dat I was sorry for her.
And she said to me, Milly, I 11 never do it again. But,
Lord! I didn t trust her, not a word on t, cause I
knowed she would. I knowed dere was dat in her heart
dat de devil wouldn t let go of. I knowed he d no kind
of objection to her musing herself with meetin s, and
prayers, and all dat; but he d no notion to let go his grip
on her heart.
"But, Lord! she wasn t quite a bad woman, poor
Miss Harrit wasn t, and she wouldn t have done so
bad, if it hadn t been for him. But he d come and have
prayers, and exhort, and den come prowling round my
place like a wolf, looking at my chil en.
" And, Milly, he d say, how do you do now ? Lucy
is getting to be a right smart girl, Milly. How old is
she? Cere s a lady in Washington has advertised for a
maid, a nice woman, a pious lady. I suppose you
220 DEED
wouldn t object, Milly? Your poor mistress is in great
trouble for money.
"I never said nothing to that man. Only once, when
he asked me what I thought my Lucy would be worth,
when she was fifteen years old, says I to him :
" * Sir, she is worth to me just what your daughter is
worth to you.
"Den I went in and shut de door. I didn t stay to see
how he took it. Den he d go up to de house, and talk to
Miss Harrit. Twas her duty, he d tell her, to take
proper care of her goods. And dat ar meant selling my
chil en. I member, when Miss Susy came home from
boarding-school, she was a pretty girl: but I didn t look
on her very kind, I tell you, cause three of my chil en
had been sold to keep her at school. My Lucy, ah,
honey! she went for a lady s maid. I knowed what dat
ar meant, well enough. De lady had a son grown, and he
took Lucy with him to Orleans, and dere was an end of
dat. Dere don t no letters go tween us. Once gone, we
can t write, and it is good as being dead. Ah, no, chile,
not so good! Paul used to teach Lucy little hymns,
nights, fore she went to sleep. And if she d a died right
off after one of dem, it would have been better for her.
Oh, honey, long dem times I used to rave and toss like
a bull in a net I did so !
"Well, honey, I wasn t what I was. I got cross and
ugly. Miss Harrit, she grew a great Christian, and joined
de church, and used to have heaps of ministers and elders
at her house; and some on em used to try and talk to me.
I told em I d seen enough of der old religion, and I
didn t want to hear no more. But Paul, he was a Chris
tian; and when he talked to me, I was quiet, like, though
I couldn t be like what he was. Well, last, my missis
promised me one. She d give me my youngest child, sure
and certain. His name was Alfred. Well, dat boy I
MILLYS STORY 221
loved dat child better dan any of de rest of em. He was
all I d got left to love; for when he was a year old,
Paul s master moved away down to Louisiana, and took
him off, and I never heard no more of him. So it peared
as if dis yer child was all I had left. Well, he vvas a
bright boy. Oh, he was most uncommon! He was so
handy to anything, and saved me so many steps! Oh,
honey, he had such ways with him dat boy ! would
always make me laugh. He took after larnin mighty,
and he larned himself to read; and he d read de Bible to
me, sometimes. I just brought him up and teached him
de best way I could. All dat made me fraid for him was,
dat he was so spirity. I s fraid t would get him into
trouble.
"He wa n t no more spirity dan white folks would like
der chil en fur to be. When white chil en holds up der
heads, and answers back, den de parents laugh, and say,
1 He s got it in him! He s a bright one! But if one
of ourn does so, it s a drefful thing. I was allers talking
to Alfred bout it, and telled him to keep humble. It
peared like there was so much in him, you couldn t keep
it down. Laws, Miss Nina, folks may say what dey like
about de black folks, dey 11 never beat it out of my head;
dere s some on em can be as smart as any white folks,
if dey could have de same chance. How many white boys
did you ever see would take de trouble for to teach their
selves to read? And dat s what my Alfred did. Laws,
I had a mighty heap of comfort in him, cause I was
thinkin to get my missis to let me hire my time; den I
was going to work over-hours, and get money, and buy
him; because, you see, chile, I knowed he was too spirity
for a slave. You see he could n t learn to stoop ; he
wouldn t let nobody impose on him; and he always had
a word back again to give anybody as good as dey sent.
Yet for all dat, he was a dear, good boy to me; and when
222 DEED
I used to talk to him, and tell him dese things was danger
ous, he d always promise fur to be kerful. Well, things
went on pretty well while he was little, and I kept him
with me till he got to be about twelve or thirteen years
old. He used to wipe de dishes, and scour de knives,
and black de shoes, and such like work. But by and by,
dey said it was time dat he should go to de reg lar work;
and dat ar was de time I felt feard. Missis had an over
seer, and he was real aggravating, and I felt feard dere d
be trouble; and sure enough dere was, too. Dere was
always somethin brewing tween him and Alfred; and he
was always running to missis with tales, and I was talking
to Alfred. But peared like he aggravated de boy so, dat
he couldn t do right. Well, one day, when I had been
up to town for an errand, I come home at night, and I
wondered Alfred didn t come home to his supper. I
thought something was wrong; and I went to de house,
and dere sat Miss Harrit by a table covered with rolls of
money, and dere she was a- counting it.
" Miss Harrit, says I, I can t find Alfred. Ain t
you seen him 1 says I.
"At first she didn t answer, but went on counting
fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three. Finally I spoke again.
" * I hope there ain t nothing happened to Alfred, Miss
Harrit?
"She looked up, and says she to me,
" Milly, says she, de fact is, Alfred has got too much
for me to manage, and I had a great deal of money offered
for him ; and I sold him.
"I felt something strong coming up in my throat, and I
just went up and took hold of her shoulders, and said I,
" Miss Harrit, you took de money for thirteen of my
chil en, and you promised me, sure enough, I should have
dis yer one. You call dat being a Christian 1 says I.
" Why, says she, Milly, he ain t a great way off;
MILLY S STORY 223
you can see him about as much. It s only over to Mr.
Jones s plantation. You can go and see him, and he can
come and see you. And you know you didn t like the
man who had the care of him here, and thought he was
always getting him into trouble.
" Miss Harrit, says I, you may cheat yourself saying
dem things; but you don t cheat me, nor de Lord neither.
You folks have de say all on your side, with your ministers
preaching us down out of de Bible; you won t teach us to
read. But I m going straight to de Lord with dis yer
case. I tell you, if de Lord is to be found, I 11 find him;
and I ll ask him to look on t, de way you ve been
treating me, selling my chil en, all de way long, to
pay for your chil en, and now breaking your word to me,
and taking dis yer boy, de last drop of blood in my heart!
I 11 pray de Lord to curse every cent of dat ar money to
you and your chil en!
"Dat ar was de way I spoke to her, child. I was poor,
ignorant cretur, and did n t know God, and my heart was
like a red-hot coal. I turned and walked right straight
out from her. I didn t speak no more to her, and she
didn t speak no more to me. And when I went to bed
at night, dar, sure nough, was Alfred s bed in de corner,
and his Sunday coat hanging up over it, and his Sunday
shoes I had bought for him with my own money; cause
he was a handsome boy, and I wanted him always to look
nice. Well, so, come Sunday morning, I took his coat
and his shoes, and made a bundle of em, and I took my
stick, and says I, I 11 just go over to Jones s place and
see what has come of Alfred. All de time, I hadn t
said a word to missis, nor she to me. Well, I got about
halfway over to de place, and dere I stopped under a big
hickory-tree, to rest me a bit, and I looked along and seed
some one a-coming; and pretty soon I knowed it was Hul-
dah. She was one that married Paul s cousin, and she
224 DEED
lived on Jones s place. And so I got up and went to
meet her, and told her I was going over to see bout
Alfred.
" Lord! says she, Milly, haven t you heard dat
Alfred s dead?
"Well, Miss Nina, it seemed as if my heart and every
thing in it stopped still. And said I, Huldah, has dey
killed him ?
"And said she, c Yes. And she told me it was dis yer
way. Dat Stiles he dat was Jones s overseer had
heard dat Alfred was dreadful spirity; and when boys is
so, sometimes dey aggravates em to get em riled, and den
dey whips em to break em in. So Stiles, when he was
laying off Alfred s task, was real aggravating to him; and
dat boy well, he answered back, just as he allers would
be doing, cause he was smart, and it peared like he
couldn t keep it in. And den dey all laughed round dere,
and den Stiles was mad, and swore he d whip him; and
den Alfred, he cut and run. And den Stiles he swore
awful at him, and he told him to come here, and he d
give him hell, and pay him de cash. Dem is de very
words he said to my boy. And Alfred said he wouldn t
come back; he wasn t going to be whipped. And just den
young Master Bill come along, and wanted to know what
was de matter. So Stiles told him, and he took out his
pistol, and said, Here, young dog, if you don t come
back before I count five, I 11 fire!
" Fire ahead! says Alfred; cause, you see, dat boy
never knowed what fear was. And so he fired. And
Huldah said he just jumped up and give one scream, and
fell flat. And dey run up to him, and he was dead;
cause, you see, de bullet went right through his heart.
Well, dey took off his jacket and looked, but it wa n t of
no use; his face settled down still. And Huldah said dat
dey just dug a hole and put him in. Nothing on him
MILLY S STORY 225
nothing round him no coffin; like he d been a dog.
Huldah showed me de jacket. Dere was de hole, cut
right round in it, like it was stamped, and his blood run
ning out on it. I didn t say a word. I took up de
jacket, and wrapped it up with his Sunday clothes, and
I walked straight straight home. I walked up into
missis room, and she was dressed for church, sure enough,
and sat dere reading her Bible. I laid it right down
under her face, dat jacket. You see dat hole! said I;
L you see dat blood! Alfred s killed! You killed him;
his blood be on you and your chil en! Lord God in
heaven, hear me, and render unto her double ! ;
Nina drew in her breath hard, with an instinctive shud
der. Milly had drawn herself up, in the vehemence of
her narration, and sat leaning forward, her black eyes
dilated, her strong arms clenched before her, and her pow
erful frame expanding and working with the violence of
her emotion. She might have looked, to one with myth
ological associations, like the figure of a black marble
Nemesis in a trance of wrath. She sat so for a few
minutes, and then her muscles relaxed, her eyes gradually
softened ; she looked tenderly but solemnly down on
Nina. "Dem was awful words, chile; but I was in
Egypt den. I was wandering in de wilderness of Sinai.
I had heard de sound of de trumpet, and de voice of
words; but, chile, I hadn t seen de Lord. Well I
went out, and I didn t speak no more to Miss Harrit.
Dere was a great gulf fixed tween us; and dere didn t no
words pass over it. I did my work I scorned not to do
it; but I didn t speak to her. Den it was, chile, dat I
thought of what my mother told me, years ago; it came
to me, all fresh Chile, when trouble comes, you ask de
Lord to help you; and I saw dat I hadn t asked de Lord
to help me; and now, says I to myself, de Lord can t
help me; cause he couldn t bring back Alfred, no way
VOL. I.
226 DEED
you could fix it; and yet I wanted to find de Lord, cause
I was so tossed up and down. I wanted just to go and
say, Lord, you see what dis woman has done. I wanted
to put it to him, if he d stand up for such a thing as that.
Lord, how de world, and everything, looked to me in dem
times! Everything goin on in de way it did; and dese
yer Christians, dat said dat dey was going into de king
dom, doing as dey did! I tell you, I sought de Lord
early and late. Many nights I have been out in de woods
and laid on de ground till morning, calling and crying, and
peared like nobody heerd me. Oh, how strange it used
to look, when I looked up to de stars ! winking at me, so
kind of still and solemn, but never saying a word ! Some
times I got dat wild, it seemed as if I could tear a hole
through de sky, cause I must find God; I had an errand
to him, and I must find him.
"Den I heard em read out de Bible, bout how de Lord
met a man on a threshing-floor, and I thought maybe if
I had a threshing-floor he would come to me. So I
threshed down a place just as hard as I could under de
trees; and den I prayed dere but he didn t come. Den
dere was coming a great camp-meeting; and I thought
I d go and see if I could find de Lord dere; because, you
see, missis, she let her people go Sunday to de camp-
meeting. Well, I went into de tents and heerd dem sing;
and I went afore de altar, and I heerd preaching; but it
peared like it was no good. It didn t touch me nowhere;
and I could n t see nothing to it. I heerd em read out
of de Bible, Oh, dat I knew where I might find him.
I would come even to his seat. I would order my cause
before him. I would fill my mouth with arguments ;
and I thought, sure enough, dat ar s just what I want.
Well, came on dark night, and dey had all de camp-fires
lighted up, and dey was singing de hymns round and
round, and I went for to hear de preaching. And dere
MILLY S STORY 227
was a man, pale, lean man he was, with black eyes and
black hair. Well, dat ar man, he preached a sermon, to
be sure, I never shall forget. His text was, He that
spared not his own Son, but freely delivered him up for
us all, how shall he not with him freely give us all
things 1 Well, you see, the first sound of dis took me,
because I d lost my son. And the man, he told us who
de son of God was, Jesus, Oh, how sweet and beauti
ful he was! How he went round doing for folks.
Lord, what a story dat ar was ! And den, how dey took
him, and put de crown of thorns on his head, and hung
him up bleeding, bleeding, and bleeding! God so loved
us dat he let his own dear Son suffer all dat for us.
Chile, I got up, and I went to de altar, and I kneeled
down with de mourners; and I fell flat on my face, and
dey said I was in a trance. Maybe I was. Where I
was, I don t know; but I saw de Lord! Chile, it seemed
as if my very heart was still. I saw him, suffering, bear
ing with us, year in and year out bearing bearing
bearing so patient! Feared like, it wa n t just on de
cross; but, bearing always, every whar! Oh, chile, I saw
how he loved us ! us all all every one on us !
we dat hated each other so! Feared like he was using
his heart up for us, all de time bleedin for us like he
did on Calvary, and willin to bleed! Oh, chile, I saw
what it was for me to be hatin , like I d hated.
Lord, says I, I give up ! Lord, never see you afore ;
I didn t know. Lord, I s a poor sinner! I won t hate
no more ! And oh, chile, den dere come such a rush of
love in my soul ! Says I, Lord, I ken love even de
white folks ! And den came another rush ; and says I,
Yes, Lord, I love poor Miss Harrit, dat s sole all my
chil en, and been de death of my poor Alfred! I loves
her. Chile, I overcome I did so I overcome by de
blood of de Lamb de Lamb ! Yes, de Lamb, chile !
228 DEED
cause if he d been a lion I could a kept in; twas de
Lamb dat overcome.
"When I come to, I felt like a chile. I went home to
Miss Harrit; and I hadn t spoke peaceable to her since
Alfred died. I went in to her. She d been sick, and
she was in her room, looking kinder pale and yaller, poor
thing; cause her son, honey, he got drunk and bused
her awful. I went in, and says I, Oh, Miss Harrit, I s
seen de Lord! Miss Harrit, I ain t got no more hard
feelin s; I forgive ye, and loves ye with all my heart, just
as de Lord does. Honey, ye ought to see how dat
woman cried! Says she, Milly, I s a great sinner.
Says I, Miss Harrit, we s sinners, both on us, but de
Lord gives hisself for us both; and if he loves us poor
sinners, we mustn t be hard on each other. Ye was
tempted, honey, says I (for you see I felt like makin
scuses for her); but de Lord Jesus has got a pardon for
both on us.
"After dat, I didn t have no more trouble with Miss
Harrit. Chile, we was sisters in Jesus. I bore her bur
dens, and she bore mine. And, dear, de burdens was
heavy; for her son he was brought home a corpse; he shot
hisself right through de heart trying to load a gun when
he was drunk. Oh, chile, I thought den how I d prayed
de Lord to render unto her double; but I had a better
mind den. Ef I could have brought poor Mas r George to
life, I d a done it; and I held de poor woman s head on
my arm all dat ar night, and she a-screamin every hour.
Well, dat ar took her down to de grave. She did n t live
much longer; but she was ready to die. She sent and
bought my daughter Lucy s son, dis here Tom, and gin
him to me. Poor thing ! she did all she could.
"I watched with her de night she died. Oh, Miss
Nina, if ever ye re tempted to hate anybody, think how
t 11 be with em when dey comes to die.
MILLY S STORY 229
"She died hard, poor thing! and she was cast down
bout her sins. Oh, Milly, says she, the Lord and you
may forgive me, but I can t forgive myself.
" And, says I to her, oh, missis, don t think of it
no more ! de Lord s hid it in his own heart ! Oh, but-
she struggled long, honey; she was all night dyin , and
twas Milly! Milly! all de time; Oh, Milly, stay with
me!
"And, chile, I felt I loved her like my own soul; and
when de day broke de Lord set her free, and I laid her
down like she d been one o my babies. I took up her
poor hand. It was warm, but the strength was all gone
out on t; and, Oh, I thought, ye poor thing, how
could I ever have hated ye so ? Ah, chile, we must n t
hate nobody; we s all poor creatures, and de dear Lord
he loves us all."
CHAPTEK XVII
UNCLE JOHN
ABOUT four miles east of Canema lay the plantation of
Nina s uncle, whither Harry had been sent on the morning
which we have mentioned. The young man went upon
his errand in no very enviable mood of mind. Uncle
Jack, as Nina always called him, was the nominal guard
ian of the estate, and a more friendly and indulgent one
Harry could not have desired. He was one of those joy
ous, easy souls whose leading desire seemed to be that
everybody in the world should make himself as happy as
possible, without fatiguing him with consultations as to
particulars. His confidence in Harry was unbounded;
and he esteemed it a good fortune that it was so, as he
was wont to say, laughingly, that his own place was more
than he could manage. Like all gentlemen who make the
study of their own ease a primary consideration, Uncle
Jack found the whole course of nature dead-set against
him. For as all creation is evidently organized with a
view to making people work, it follows that no one has so
much care as the man who resolves not to take any.
Uncle Jack was systematically, and as a matter of course,
cheated and fleeced by his overseers, by his negroes, and
the poor whites of his vicinity, and worst of all, contin
ually hectored and lectured by his wife therefor. Nature,
or Destiny, or whoever the lady may be that deals the
matrimonial cards, with her usual thoughtfulness in balan
cing opposites, had arranged that jovial, easy, care-hating
Uncle John should have been united to a most undaunted
UNCLE JOHN 231
and ever-active spirit of enterprise and resolution, who
never left anything quiet in his vicinity. She it was who
continually disturbed his repose, by constantly ferreting
out, and bringing before his view, all the plots, treasons,
and conspiracies with which plantation life is ever abound
ing; bringing down on his devoted head the necessity of
discriminations, decisions, and settlements, most abhorrent
to an easy man.
The fact was, that responsibility, aggravated by her
husband s negligence, had transformed the worthy woman
into a sort of domestic dragon of the Hesperides; and her
good helpmeet declared that he believed she never slept,
nor meant anybody else should. It was all very well, he
would observe. He would n t quarrel with her for walk
ing the whole night long, or sleeping with her head out of
the window, watching the smoke-house; for stealing out
after one o clock to convict Pompey, or circumvent Cuff,
if she only wouldn t bother him with it. Suppose the
half of the hams were carried off, between two and three,
and sold to Abijah Skinflint for rum 1 He must have his
sleep; and if he had to pay for it in ham, why, he d pay
for it in ham; but sleep he must, and would. And sup
posing he really believed, in his own soul, that Cuffy, who
came in the morning, with a long face, to announce the
theft, and to propose measures of discovery, was in fact
the main conspirator what then? He couldn t prove it
on him. Cuff had gone astray from the womb, speaking
lies ever since he was born; and what would be the use of
his fretting and sweating himself to death to get truth out
of Cuff? No, no! Mrs. G., as he commonly called his
helpmeet, might do that sort of thing, but she mustn t
bother him about it. Not that Uncle Jack was invariable
in his temper; human nature has its limits, and a person
age who finds " mischief still for idle hands to do " often
seems to take a malicious pleasure in upsetting the temper
232 DEED
of idle gentlemen. So Uncle Jack, though, confessedly
the best fellow in the world, was occasionally subject to a
tropical whirlwind of passion, in which he would stamp,
tear, and swear, with most astounding energy ; and in those
ignited moments all the pent-up sorrows, of his soul would
fly about him, like red-hot shot, in every direction. And
then he would curse the negroes, curse the overseers, curse
the plantation, curse Cuff and Pomp and Dinah, curse the
poor white folks round, curse Mr. Abijah Skinflint, and
declare that he would send them and the niggers all sev
erally to a department which politeness forbids us to men
tion. He would pour out awful threats of cutting up,
skinning alive, and selling to Georgia. To all which com
motion and bluster the negroes would listen, rolling the
whites of their eyes, and sticking their tongues in their
cheeks, with an air of great satisfaction and amusement;
because experience had sufficiently proved to them that
nobody had ever been cut up, skinned alive, or sent to
Georgia, as the result of any of these outpourings. So
when Uncle Jack had one of these fits, they treated it as
hens do an approaching thunderstorm, ran under cover,
and waited for it to blow over.
As to Madam Gordon, her wrath was another affair.
And her threats they had learned to know generally meant
something; though it very often happened that, in the
dispensation of most needed justice, Uncle Jack, if in an
extra good humor, would rush between the culprit and his
mistress, and bear him off in triumph, at the risk of most
serious consequences to himself afterwards. Our readers
are not to infer from this that Madam Gordon was really
and naturally an ill-natured woman. She was only one
of that denomination of vehement housekeepers who are
to be found the world over women to whom is appointed
the hard mission of combating, single handed, for the prin
ciples of order and exactness, against a whole world in
UNCLE JOHN 233
arms. Had she had the good fortune to have been born
in Vermont or Massachusetts, she would have been known
through the whole village as a woman who couldn t be
cheated half a cent on a pound in meat, and had an in
stinctive knowledge whether a cord of wood was too short,
or a pound of butter too light. Put such a woman at the
head of the disorderly rabble of a plantation, with a cheat
ing overseer, surrounded by thieving poor whites, to whom
the very organization of society leaves no resource but
thieving, with a never-mind husband, with land that has
seen its best days, and is fast running to barrenness, and
you must not too severely question her temper, if it should
not be at all times in perfect subjection. In fact, Madam
Gordon s cap habitually bristled with horror, and she was
rarely known to sit down. Occasionally, it is true, she
alighted upon a chair, but was in a moment up again, to
pursue some of her household train, or shout, at the top
of her lungs, some caution toward the kitchen.
When Harry reined up his horse before the plantation,
the gate was thrown open for him by old Pomp, a super
annuated negro, who reserved this function as his peculiar
sinecure.
"Lord bress you, Harry, dat you? Bress you, you
ought fur to see mas r ! Such a gale up to de house ! "
"What s the matter, Pomp?"
"Why, mas r, he done got one of he fits! Tarin round
dar, fit to split! stompin up and down de randy,
swarin like mad! Lord, if he ain t! He done got Jake
tied up, dar! swars he s goin to cut him to pieces!
He ! he ! he ! Has so ! Got Jake tied up dar ! Ho ! ho !
ho! Real curus! And he s blowin hisself out dere
mighty hard, I tell you ! So, if you want to get word wid
him, you can t do it till he done got through wid dis
yer ! " And the old man ducked his pepper-and-salt-col
ored head, and chuckled with a lively satisfaction.
234 DEED
As Harry rode slowly up the avenue to the house, he
caught sight of the portly figure of its master, stamping up
and down the veranda, vociferating and gesticulating in
the most violent manner. He was a corpulent man, of
middle age, with a round, high forehead, set off with griz
zled hair. His blue eyes, fair, rosy, fat face, his mouth
adorned with brilliant teeth, gave him, when in good
humor, the air of a handsome and agreeable man. At
present his countenance was flushed almost to purple, as
he stood storming, from his rostrum, at a saucy, ragged
negro, who, tied to the horse-post, stood the picture of
unconcern ; while "a crowd of negro men, women, and chil
dren were looking on.
"I ll teach you!" he vociferated, shaking his fist. "I
won t won t bear it of you, you dog, you! You won t
take my orders, won t you? I ll kill you that I will!
I 11 cut you up into inch pieces ! "
"No, you won t, and you know you won t!" interposed
Mrs. Gordon, who sat at the window behind him. "You
won t, and you know you won t! and they know you
won t, too! It will all end in smoke, as it always does.
I only wish you wouldn t talk and threaten, because it
makes you ridiculous ! "
"Hold your tongue, too! I ll be master in my own
house, I say ! Infernal dog ! I say, Cuff, cut him up !
Why don t you go at him? Give it to him! What
you waiting for ? "
"If mas r pleases!" said Cuff, rolling up his eyes, and
making a deprecating gesture.
"If I please! W T ell, blast you, I do please! Go at
him! thrash away! Stay, I ll come myself." And
seizing a cowhide, which lay near him, he turned up his
cuffs, and ran down the steps, but missing his footing in
his zeal, came head-first against the very post where the
criminal was tied.
UNCLE JOHN 235
"There! I hope, now, you are satisfied! You have
killed me ! you have broke my head, you have ! I shall
be laid up a month, all for you, you ungrateful dog ! "
Cuffy and Sambo came to the rescue, raised him up
carefully, and began brushing the dust off his clothes,
smothering the laughter with which they seemed ready to
explode, while the culprit at the post seemed to consider
this an excellent opportunity to put in his submission.
"Please, mas r, do forgive me! I tole em to go out,
and dey said dey wouldn t. I didn t mean no harm
when I said * Mas r had better go hisself ; cause I thinks
so now. Mas r had better go! Dem folks is curus, and
dey won t go for none of us. Dey just acts ridiculous,
dey does! And I didn t mean fur to be sarcy, nor
nothin . I say gin, if mas r 11 take his horse and go
over dar, mas r drive dose folks out; and nobody else can t
do it! We done can t do it dey jest sarce us. Now,
fore my Heavenly Master, all dis yere is de truth I ve been
telling. De Lord, de Master, knows it is; and if mas r 11
take his horse, and ride down dere, he d see so; so dere,
jest as I ve been telling mas r. I did n t mean no harm
at all, I didn t!"
The quarrel, it must be told, related to the ejecting of
a poor white family which had squatted, as the phrase is,
in a deserted cabin, on a distant part of the Gordon plan
tation. Mrs. Gordon s untiring assiduity having discov
ered this fact, she had left her husband no peace till some
thing was undertaken in the way of ejectment. He
accordingly commissioned Jake, a stout negro, on the
morning of the present day, to go over and turn them off.
Now, Jake, who inherited to the full the lofty contempt
with which the plantation negro regards the poor white
folks, started upon his errand, nothing loath, and whistled
his way in high feather, with two large dogs at his heels.
But when he found a miserable, poor, sick woman, sur-
236 DEED
rounded by four starving children, Jake s mother s milk
came back to him, and instead of turning them out, he
actually pitched a dish of cold potatoes in among them,
which he picked up in a neighboring cabin, with about the
same air of contemptuous pity with which one throws
scraps to a dog. And then, meandering his way back to
the house, informed his master that "he couldn t turn de
white trash out, and if he wanted them turned out, he
would have to go hisself."
Now, we all know that a fit of temper has very often
nothing to do with the thing which appears to give rise
to it. When a cloud is full charged with electricity, it
makes no difference which bit of wire is put in. The
flash and the thunder come one way as well as another.
Mr. Gordon had received troublesome letters on business,
a troublesome lecture from his wife, his corn-cake had been
overdone at breakfast, and his coffee burned bitter; be
sides which, he had a cold in his head coming on, and
there was a settlement brewing with the overseer. In con
sequence of all which things, though Jake s mode of
delivering himself was n t a whit more saucy than ordinary,
the storm broke upon him then and there, and raged as
we have described. The heaviest part of it, however,
being now spent, Mr. Gordon consented to pardon the
culprit on condition that he would bring him up his horse
immediately, when he would ride over and see if he
could n t turn out the offending party. He pressed Harry,
who was rather a favorite of his, into the service; and in
the course of a quarter of an hour they were riding off in
the direction of the squatter s cabin.
"It s perfectly insufferable, what we proprietors have
to bear from this tribe of creatures!" he said. "There
ought to be hunting-parties got up to chase them down,
and exterminate em, just as we do rats. It would be a
kindness to them; the only thing you can do for them is
UNCLE JOHN 237
to kill them. As for charity, or that kind of thing, you
might as well throw victuals into the hollow logs as to try
to feed em. The government ought to pass laws, we
will have laws, somehow or other, and get them out of
the state."
And so discoursing, the good man at length arrived
before the door of a miserable, decaying log cabin, out of
whose glassless windows dark emptiness looked, as out of
the eyeholes of a skull. Two scared, cowering children
disappeared round the corner as he approached. He kicked
open the door, and entered. Crouched on a pile of dirty
straw sat a miserable, haggard woman, with large, wild
eyes, sunken cheeks, disheveled, matted hair, and long,
lean hands, like bird s claws. At her skinny breast an
emaciated infant was hanging, pushing, with its little
skeleton hands, as if to force the nourishment which
nature no longer gave; and two scared-looking children,
with features wasted and pinched blue with famine, were
clinging to her gown. The whole group huddled together,
drawing as far as possible away from the newcomer, looked
up with large, frightened eyes, like hunted wild animals.
"What you here for?" was the first question of Mr.
Gordon, put in no very decided tone; for if the truth
must be told, his combativeness was oozing out.
The woman did not answer, and after a pause, the
youngest child piped up in a shrill voice,
"Ain t got nowhere else to be! "
"Yes," said the woman, "we camped on Mr. Durant s
place, and Bobfield him is the overseer pulled down
the cabin right over our head. Pears like we couldn t
get nowhere."
"Where is your husband? "
"Gone looking for work. Pears like he couldn t get
none nowhere. Pears like nobody wants us. But we
have got to be somewhere, though ! " said the woman in
238 DEED
a melancholy, apologetic tone. "We can t die, as I see!
wish we could ! "
Mr. Gordon s eye fell upon two or three cold potatoes
in a piece of broken crock, over which the woman appeared
keeping jealous guard.
"What you doing with those potatoes?"
"Saving them for the children s dinner."
"And is that all you ve got to eat, I want to know? "
said Mr. Gordon in a high, sharp tone, as if he were
getting angry very fast.
"Yes," said the woman.
" What did you have to eat yesterday ? "
" Nothing ! " said the woman.
"And what did you eat the day before? "
"Found some old bones round the nigger houses; and
some on em give us some corn-cake."
"Why the devil did n t you send up to my house, and get
some bacon? Picking up bones, slop, and swill, round
the nigger huts? Why didn t you send up for some ham,
and some meal? Lord bless you, you don t think Madam
Gordon is a dog to bite you, do you? Wait here till I
send you down something fit to eat. Just end in my
having to take care of you, I see ! And if you are going
to stay here, there will be something to be done to keep
the rain out ! "
"There, now," he said to Harry, as he was mounting
his horse, "just see what tis to be made with hooks in
one s back, like me! Everybody hangs on to me , of
course ! Now, there s Durant turns off these folks; there s
Peters turns them off! Well, what s the consequence?
They come and litter down on me, just because I am an
easy, soft-hearted old fool! It s too devilish badl They
breed like rabbits! What God Almighty makes such
people for, I don t know! I suppose He does. But
there s these poor, miserable trash have children like
UNCLE JOHN 239
sixty; and there s folks living in splendid houses, dying
for children, and can t have any. If they manage one or
two, the scarlet fever or whooping-cough makes off with
em. Lord bless me, things go on in a terrible mixed-up
way in this world! And then, what upon earth I m to
say to Mrs. G. ! I know what she 11 say to me. She 11
tell me she told me so that s what she always says. I
wish she d go and see them herself I do so! Mrs. G.
is the nicest kind of a woman no mistake about that;
but she has an awful deal of energy, that woman! It s
dreadful fatiguing to a quiet man, like me dreadful !
But I m sure I don t know what I should do without her.
She ll be down upon me about this woman; but the
woman must have some ham, that s flat ! Cold potatoes
and old bones ! Pretty story ! Such people have no busi
ness to live at all; but if they will live, they ought to
eat Christian things! There goes Jake. Why couldn t
he turn em off before I saw em? It would have saved
me all this plague ! Dog knew what he was about when
he got me down here! Jake! Oh, Jake, Jake! come
here ! "
Jake came shambling along up to his master, with an
external appearance of the deepest humility, under which
was too plainly seen to lurk a facetious air of waggish satis
faction.
"Here, you, Jake; you get a basket"
"Yes, mas r!" said Jake, with an air of provoking
intelligence.
"Be still saying { Yes, mas r, and hear what I ve got
to say ! Mind yourself ! "
Jake gave a side glance of inexpressible drollery at
Harry, and then stood like an ebony statue of submission.
" You go to your missis, and ask her for the key of the
smoke-house, and bring it to me."
"Yes, sir."
240 DEED
"And you tell your missis to send me a peck of meal.
Stay a loaf of bread, or some biscuit, or corn-cake, or
anything else which may happen to be baked up. Tell
her I want them sent out right away."
Jake bowed and disappeared.
"Now we may as well ride down this path, while he is
gone for the things. Mrs. G. will blow off on him first,
so that rather less of it will come upon me. I wish I
could get her to see them herself. Lord bless her, she is
a kind-hearted woman enough! but she thinks there s no
use doing, and there ain t. She is right enough about
it. But then, as the woman says, there must be some
place for them to be in the world. The world is wide
enough, I m sure! Plague take it! why can t we pass a
law to take them all in with our niggers, and then they d
have some one to take care of them ! Then we d do some
thing for them, and there d be some hope of keeping em
comfortable. "
Harry felt in nowise inclined to reply to any of this
conversation, because he knew that, though nominally
addressed to him, the good gentleman was talking merely
for the sake of easing his mind, and that he would have
opened his heart just as freely to the next hickory bush,
if he had not happened to be present. So he let him
expend himself, waiting for an opportunity to introduce
subjects which lay nearer his heart.
In a convenient pause he found opportunity to say,
"Miss Nina sent me over here, this morning."
"Ah, Nin! my pretty little Nin! Bless the child!
She did 1 Why could n t she come over herself, and com
fort an old fellow s heart? Nm is the prettiest girl in the
county ! I tell you that, Harry ! "
"Miss Nina is in a good deal of trouble. Master Tom
came home last night drunk, and to-day he is so cross and
contrary she can t do anything with him."
UNCLE JOHN 241
"Drunk 1 ? Oh, what a sad dog! Tom gets drunk too
often! Carries that too far, altogether! Told him that,
the last time I talked to him. Says I, Tom, it does very
well for a young man to have a spree once in one or two
months. I did it myself, when I was young. But, says
I, Tom, to spree all the time won t do, Tom! says I.
Nobody minds a fellow being drunk occasionally ; but he
ought to be moderate about it, and know where to stop,
says I ; because, when it comes to that, that he is drunk
every day, or every other day, why, it s my opinion that
he may consider the devil s got him! I talked to Tom
just so, right out square; because, you see, I m in a
father s place to him. But, Lord, it don t seem to have
done him a bit of good ! Good Lord ! they tell me he is
drunk one half his time, and acts like a crazy creature !
Goes too far, Tom does, altogether. Mrs. G. ain t got
any patience with him. She blasts at him every time he
comes here, and he blasts at her; so it ain t very comfort
able having him here. Good woman at heart, Mrs. Gor
don, but a little strong in her ways, you know; and Tom
is strong, too. So it s fire fight fire when they get to
gether. It s noways comfortable to a man wanting to
have everybody happy around him. Lord bless me! I
wish Nin were my daughter! Why can t she come over
here, and live with me ? She has n t got any more spirit
in her than just what I like. Just enough fizz in her to
keep one from flatting out. What about those beaux of
hers 1 Is she going to be married 1 Hey 1 "
"There s two gentlemen there, attending upon Miss
Nina. One is Mr. Carson, of New York "
"Hang it all! she isn t going to marry a d d Yankee!
Why, brother would turn over in his grave ! "
"I don t think it will be necessary to put himself to
that trouble," said Harry, "for I rather think it s Mr.
Clayton who is to be the favored one."
VOL. I.
242 DEED
"Clayton! good blood! like that! Seems to be a
gentlemanly good fellow, does n t he ? "
"Yes, sir. He owns a plantation, I m told, in South
Carolina. "
"Ah! ah! that s well! But I hate to spare Nin! I
never half liked sending her off to New York. Don t
believe in boarding-schools. I ve seen as fine girls grown
on plantations as any man need want. What do we want
to send our girls there, to get fipenny-bit ideas 1 I thank
the Lord I never was in New York, and I ne\er mean to
be! Carolina born and raised, I am; and my wife is
Virginia pure breed! No boarding-school about her!
And when I stood up to be married to her, there was n t
a girl in Virginia could stand up with her. Her cheeks
were like damask roses! A tall, straight, lively girl, she
was! Knew her own mind, and had a good notion of
speaking it, too. And there isn t a woman, now, that
can get through the business she can, and have her eyes
always on everything. If it does make me uncomfortable,
every now and then, I ought to take it, and thank the
Lord for it. For if it wa n t for her, what with the over
seer, and the niggers, and the poor Avhite trash, we should
all go to the devil in a heap ! "
"Miss Nina sent me over here to be out of Master
Tom s way," said Harry, after a pause. "He is bent
upon hectoring me, as usual. You know, sir, that he
always had a spite against me, and it seems to grow more
and more bitter. He quarrels with her about the manage
ment of everything on the place ; and you know, sir, that
I try to do my very best, and you and Mrs. Gordon have
always been pleased to say that I did well."
"So we did, Harry, my boy! So we did! Stay here
as long as you like. Just suit yourself about that. Maybe
you d like to go out shooting with me."
"I m worried," said Harry, "to be obliged to be away
UNCLE JOHN 243
just at the time of putting in the seed. Everything de
pends upon my overseeing."
"Why don t you go back, then? Tom s ugliness is
nothing but because he is drunk. There s where it is!
I see through it! You see, when a fellow has had a
drunken spree, why, the day after it he is all at loose ends
and cross nerves all raveled out, like an old stocking.
Then fellows are sulky and surly like. I ve heard of
their having temperance societies up in those northern
states, and I think something of that sort would be good
for our young men. They get drunk too often. Full a
third of them, I should reckon, get the delirium tremens
before they are fifty. If we could have a society like
them, and that sort of thing, and agree to be moderate!
Nobody expects young men to be old before their time;
but if they d agree not to blow out more than once a
month, or something in that way ! "
"I m afraid," said Harry, "Master Tom s too far gone
for that."
"Oh, ay! yes! Pity, pity! Suppose it is so. Why,
when a fellow gets so far, he s like a nigger s old patched
coat you can t tell where the real cloth is. Now, Tom;
I suppose he never is himself always up on a wave, or
down in the trough ! Heigho ! I m sorry ! "
"It s very hard on Miss Nina," said Harry. "He in
terferes, and I have no power to stand for her. And,
yesterday, he began talking to my wife in a way I can t
bear, nor won t! He must let her alone! "
" Sho ! sho ! " said Mr. Gordon, " See what a boy that
is, now! That ain t in the least worth while that ain t!
I shall tell Tom so. And, Harry, mind your temper!
Remember, young men will be young; and if a fellow
will treat himself to a pretty wife, he must expect trials.
But Tom ought not to do so. I shall tell him. High !
there comes Jake, with the basket and the smoke-house
244 DEED
key. Now for something to send down to those poor
hobgohlins. If people are going to starve, they mustn t
come on to my place to do it. I don t mind what I don t
see I wouldn t mind if the whole litter of em was
drowned to-morrow; but, hang it, I can t stand it if I
know it! So, here, Jake, take this ham and bread, and
look em up an old skillet, and see if you can t tinker up
the house a bit. I d set the fellow to work, when he
comes back, only we have two hands to every turn, now,
and the niggers always plague em. Harry, yon go home,
and tell Nin Mrs. G. and I will be over to dinner."
CHAPTER XVIII
DRED
HARRY spent the night at the place of Mr. John Gor
don, and arose the next morning in a very discontented
mood of mind. Nothing is more vexatious to an active
and enterprising person than to be thrown into a state of
entire idleness; and Harry, after lounging about for a
short time in the morning, found his indignation increased
by every moment of enforced absence from the scene of his
daily labors and interest. Having always enjoyed substan
tially the privileges of a free man in the ability to regulate
his time according to his own ideas, to come and go, to
buy and sell, and transact business unfettered by any felt
control, he was the more keenly alive to the degradation
implied in his present position.
"Here I must skulk around," said he to himself, "like
a partridge in the bushes, allowing everything to run at
loose ends, preparing the way for my being found fault
with for a lazy fellow by and by ; and all for what ? Be
cause my younger brother chooses to come, without right
or reason, to domineer over me, to insult my wife; and
because the laws will protect him in it, if he does it ! Ah !
ah! that s it. They are all leagued together! No matter
how right I am no matter how bad he is ! Everybody
will stand up for him, and put me down; all because my
grandmother was born in Africa, and his grandmother was
born in America. Confound it all, I won t stand it!
Who knows what he 11 be saying and doing to Lisette
while I am gone? I 11 go back and face him, like a man!
246 DEED
I 11 keep straight about my business, and if he crosses
me, let him take care! He hasn t got but one life, any
more than I have. Let him look out ! "
And Harry jumped upon his horse, and turned his head
homeward. He struck into a circuitous path, which led
along that immense belt of swampy land to which the name
of Dismal has been given. As he was riding along
immersed in thought, the clatter of horses feet was heard
in front of him. A sudden turn of the road brought him
directly facing to Tom Gordon and Mr. Jekyl, who had
risen early and started off on horseback, in order to reach
a certain stage depot before the heat of the day. There
was a momentary pause on both sides ; when Tom Gordon,
like one who knows his power, and is determined to use it
to the utmost, broke out scornfully :
"Stop, you d d nigger, and tell your master where
you are going ! "
"You are not my master! " said Harry, in words whose
concentrated calmness conveyed more bitterness and wrath
than could have been given by the most violent out
burst.
"You d d whelp!" said Tom Gordon, striking him
across the face twice with his whip, "take that, and that!
We ll see if I m not your master! There, now, help
yourself, won t you? Isn t that a master s mark?"
It had been the lifelong habit of Harry s position to
repress every emotion of anger within himself. But at
this moment his face wore a deadly and frightful expres
sion. Still, there was something majestic and almost
commanding in the attitude with which he reined back
his horse, and slowly lifted his hand to heaven. He
tried to speak, but his voice was choked with repressed
passion. At last he said :
"You may be sure, Mr. Gordon, this mark will never
be f qrgotten ! "
DEED 247
There are moments of high excitement, when all that is
in a human being seems to be roused, and to concentrate
itself in the eye and the voice. And in such moments
any man, apparently by virtue of his mere humanity, by
the mere awfulness of the human soul that is in him, gains
power to overawe those who in other hours scorn him.
There was a minute s pause in which neither spoke; and
Mr. Jekyl, who was a man of peace, took occasion to
touch Tom s elbow, and say:
"It seems to me this isn t worth while we shall miss
the stage." And as Harry had already turned his horse
and was riding away, Tom Gordon turned his, shouting
after him, with a scornful laugh :
" I called on your wife before I came away this morning,
and I liked her rather better the second time than I did
the first!"
This last taunt flew like a Parthian arrow backward,
and struck into the soul of the bondman with even a
keener power than the degrading blow. The sting of it
seemed to rankle more bitterly as he rode along, till at
last he dropped the reins on his horse s neck, and burst
into a transport of bitter cursing.
"Aha! aha! it has come nigh thee, has it? It touch-
eth thee, and thou faintest ! " said a deep voice from the
swampy thicket beside him.
Harry stopped his horse and his imprecations. There
was a crackling in the swamp, and a movement among the
copse of briers; and at last the speaker emerged, and stood
before Harry. He was a tall black man, of magnificent
stature and proportions. His skin was intensely black,
and polished like marble. A loose shirt of red flannel,
which opened very wide at the breast, gave a display of
a neck and chest of herculean strength. The sleeves of
the shirt, rolled up nearly to the shoulders, showed the
muscles of a gladiator. The head, which rose with an
248 DEED
imperial air from the broad shoulders, was large and mas
sive, and developed with equal force both in the reflective
and perceptive department. The perceptive organs jutted
like dark ridges over the eyes, while that part of the head
which phrenologists attribute to the moral and intellectual
sentiments rose like an ample dome above them. The
large eyes had that peculiar and solemn effect of unfathom
able blackness and darkness which is often a striking char
acteristic of the African eye. But there burned in them,
like tongues of flame in a black pool of naphtha, a subtle
and restless fire that betokened habitual excitement to the
verge of insanity. If any organs were predominant in the
head, they were those of ideality, wonder, veneration, and
firmness; and the whole combination was such as might
have formed one of the wild old warrior prophets of the
heroic ages. He wore a fantastic sort of turban, apparently
of an old scarlet shawl, which added to the outlandish
effect of his appearance. His nether garments, of coarse
negro-cloth, were girded round the waist by a strip of
scarlet flannel, in which were thrust a bowie-knife and
hatchet. Over one shoulder he carried a rifle, and a shot-
pouch was suspended to his belt. A rude game-bag hung
upon his arm. Wild and startling as the apparition might
have been, it appeared to be no stranger to Harry; for
after the first movement of surprise, he said in a tone of
familiar recognition, in which there was blended somewhat
of awe and respect :
"Oh, it is you, then, Dred! I didn t know that you
were hearing me ! "
" Have I not heard 1 " said the speaker, raising his arm,
and his eyes gleaming with wild excitement. "How long
wilt thou halt between two opinions? Did not Moses
refuse to be called the son of Pharaoh s daughter? How
long wilt thou cast in thy lot with the oppressors of Israel,
who say unto thee, Bow down that we may walk over
DEED 249
thee ? Shall not the Eed Sea be divided ? Yea, saith
the Lord, it shall. "
" Dred ! I know what you mean ! " said Harry, trem
bling with excitement.
"Yea, thou dost!" said the figure. "Yea, thou dost!
Hast thou not eaten the fat and drunk the sweet with the
oppressor, and hid thine eyes from the oppression of thy
people ? Have not our wives been for a prey, and thou
hast not regarded 1 Hath not our cheek been given to the
smiter? Have we not been counted as sheep for the
slaughter ? But thou saidst, Lo ! I knew it not, and
didst hide thine eyes! Therefore, the curse of Meroz is
upon thee, saith the Lord. And thou shalt bow down to
the oppressor, and his rod shall be upon thee; and thy
wife shall be for a prey ! "
"Don t talk in that way! don t!" said Harry, strik
ing out his hands with a frantic gesture, as if to push back
the words. " You are raising the very devil in me ! "
"Look here, Harry," said the other, dropping from the
high tone he at first used to that of common conversation,
and speaking in bitter irony, " did your master strike you ?
It s sweet to kiss the rod, isn t it? Bend your neck and
ask to be struck again ! won t you 1 Be meek and lowly !
that s the religion for you! You are a slave, and you
wear broadcloth, and sleep soft. By and by he will give
you a fip to buy salve for those cuts ! Don t fret about
your wife! Women always like the master better than
the slave! Why shouldn t they? When a man licks his
master s foot, his wife scorns him, serves him right.
Take it meekly, my boy ! Servants, obey your masters.
Take your master s old coats take your wife when he s
done with her and bless God that brought you under
the light of the gospel! Go! you are a slave! But as
for me," he said, drawing up his head, and throwing back
his shoulders with a deep inspiration, " J am a free man!
250 DEED
Free by this," holding out his rifle. "Free by the Lord
of hosts, that numbereth the stars, and calleth them forth
by their names. Go home that s all I have to say to
you ! You sleep in a curtained bed. I sleep on the
ground, in the swamps ! You eat the fat of the land. I
have what the ravens bring me ! But no man whips me !
no man touches my wife ! no man says to me, Why
do ye so ? Go ! you are a slave ! I am free ! " And
with one athletic bound, he sprang into the thicket, and
was gone.
The effect of this address on the already excited mind
of the bondman may be better conceived than described.
He ground his teeth and clenched his hands.
"Stop!" he cried; "Dred, I will I will I 11 do as
you tell me I will not be a slave ! "
A scornful laugh was the only reply, and the sound of
crackling footsteps retreated rapidly. He who retreated
struck up, in a clear, loud voice, one of those peculiar
melodies in which vigor and spirit are blended with a wild,
inexpressible mournfulness. The voice was one of a sin
gular and indescribable quality of tone; it was heavy as
the sub- bass of an organ, and of a velvety softness, and
yet it seemed to pierce the air with a keen dividing force
which is generally characteristic of voices of much less
volume. The words were the commencement of a wild
camp-meeting hymn, much in vogue in those parts :
" Brethren, don t you hear the sound ?
The martial trumpet now is blowing;
Men in order listing round,
And soldiers to the standard flowing."
There was a wild, exultant fullness of liberty that rolled
in the note; and, to Harry s excited ear, there seemed in
it a fierce challenge of contempt to his imbecility, and his
soul at that moment seemed to be rent asunder with a
pang such as only those can know who have felt what it
DEED 251
is to be a slave. There was an uprising within him,
vague, tumultuous, overpowering; dim instincts, heroic
aspirations; the will to do, the soul to dare; and then, in
a moment, there followed the picture of all society leagued
against him, the hopeless impossibility of any outlet to
what was burning within him. The waters of a nature
naturally noble, pent up, and without outlet, rolled back
upon his heart with a suffocating force; and in his hasty
anguish he cursed the day of his birth. The spasm of
his emotion was interrupted by the sudden appearance of
Milly coming along the path.
"Why, bless you, Milly," said Harry in sudden sur
prise, "where are you going? "
"Oh, bless you, honey, chile, I s gwine on to take de
stage. Dey wanted to get up de wagon for me ; but, bless
you, says I, what you s pose de Lord gin us legs for? I
never wants no critturs to tug me round, when I can walk
myself. And den, honey, it s so pleasant like, to be
a- walking along in de bush here, in de morning; pears
like de voice of de Lord is walking among de trees. But
bless you, chile, honey, what s de matter o yer face?"
"It s Tom Gordon, d n him!" said Harry.
"Don t talk dat ar way, chile!" said Milly, using the
freedom with Harry which her years and weight of charac
ter had gradually secured for her among the members of
the plantation.
"I will talk that way! Why shouldn t I? I am not
going to be good any longer."
"Why, t won t help de matter to be bad, will it,
Harry? Cause you hate Tom Gordon, does you want to
act just like him ? "
"No!" said Harry, "I won t be like him, but I ll
have my revenge ! Old Dred has been talking to me again,
this morning. He always did stir me up so that I could
hardly live; and I won t stand it any longer! "
252 DEED
"Chile," said Milly, "you take care! Keep clear on
him! He s in de wilderness of Sinai; he is with de
blackness and darkness and tempest. He hain t come to
de heavenly Jerusalem. Oh! Oh! honey! dere s a blood
of sprinkling dat speaketh better things dan dat of Abel.
Jerusalem above is free is free, honey; so, don t you
mind, now, what happens in dis yer time."
" Ah, ah, Aunt Milly ! this may do well enough for old
women like you; but stand opposite to a young fellow
like me, with good strong arms, and a pair of doubled fists,
and a body and soul just as full of fight as they can be;
it don t answer to go to telling about a heavenly Jerusa
lem! We want something here. We ll have it, too!
How do you know there is any heaven, anyhow 1 "
"Know it?" said Milly, her eye kindling, and striking
her staff on the ground. "Know it? I knows it by de
hankering arter it I got in here," giving her broad chest
a blow which made it resound like a barrel. "De Lord
knowed what he was bout when he made us. When he
made babies rooting round, with der poor little mouths
open, he made milk and de mammies for em too. Chile,
we s nothing but great babies, dat ain t got our eyes
opened rooting round and round; but de Father 11 feed
us yet he will so. "
"He s a long time about it," said Harry sullenly.
"Well, chile, ain t it a long time fore your corn sprouts
a long time fore it gets into de ears 1 but you plants
for all dat. What s dat to me what I is here? ShaVt
I reign with de Lord Jesus ? "
"I don t know," said Harry.
"Well, honey, / does ! Jest so sure as I s standing on
dis yer ground, I knows in a few years I shall be reigning
with de Lord Jesus, and a- casting my crown at his feet.
Dat s what I knows. Flesh and blood did n t reveal it
unto me, but de Spirit of de Father. It s no odds to me
DEED 253
what I does here; every road leads straight to glory, and
de glory ain t got no end to it! " And Milly uplifted her
voice in a favorite stave :
" When we ve been dere ten thousand years,
Bright shining like de sun,
We ve no less days to sing God s praise
Than when we first begun.
"Chile," said she to him solemnly, "I ain t a fool.
Does ye s pose dat I thinks folks has any business to be
sitting on der cheers all der life long, and working me, and
living on my money? Why, I knows dey hain t! Ain t
it all wrong, from fust to last, de way dey makes merchan
dise o us! Why, I knows it is; but I s still about it,
for de Lord s sake. I don t work for Miss Loo; I works
for de Lord Jesus ; and he is good pay no mistake, now
I tell you."
"Well," said Harry, a little shaken, but not convinced,
"after all, there isn t much use in trying to do any other
way. But you re lucky in feeling so, Aunt Milly; but I
can t."
"Well, chile, anyway, don t you do nothing rash and
don t you hear him. Dat ar way out is through seas of
blood. Why, chile, would you turn against Miss Nina?
Chile, if they get a-going, they won t spare nobody.
Don t you start up dat ar tiger; cause, I tell ye, ye can t
chain him, if ye do ! "
"Yes," said Harry, "I see it s all madness, perfect
madness; there s no use thinking, no use talking. Well,
good-morning, Aunt Milly. Peace go with you ! " And
the young man started his horse, and was soon out of
sight.
CHAPTER XIX
THE CONSPIRATORS
WE owe our readers now some words of explanation
respecting the new personage who has been introduced
into our history; therefore we must go back somewhat,
and allude to certain historical events of painful signifi
cance.
It has been a problem to many, how the system of sla
very in America should unite the two apparent inconsisten
cies of a code of slave-laws more severe than that of any
other civilized nation with an average practice at least as
indulgent as any other; for bad as slavery is at the best,
it may yet be admitted that the practice, as a whole, has
been less cruel in this country than in many. An exami
nation into history will show us that the cruelty of the
laws resulted from the effects of indulgent practice. Dur
ing the first years of importation of slaves into South Caro
lina, they enjoyed many privileges. Those who lived in
intelligent families, and had any desire to learn, were in
structed in reading and writing. Liberty was given them
to meet in assemblies of worship, in class-meetings, and
otherwise, without the presence of white witnesses; and
many were raised to situations of trust and consequence.
The result of this was the development of a good degree
of intelligence and manliness among the slaves. There
arose among them grave, thoughtful, energetic men, with
their ears and eyes open, and their minds constantly awake
to compare and reason.
When minds come into this state, in a government pro-
THE CONSPIRATORS 255
fessing to be founded on principles of universal equality,
it follows that almost every public speech, document, or
newspaper becomes an incendiary publication.
Of this fact the southern slave states have ever exhibited
the most singular unconsciousness. Documents containing
sentiments most dangerous for slaves to hear have been
publicly read and applauded among them. The slave has
heard, amid shouts, on the Fourth of July, that his mas
ters held the truth to be self-evident that all men were
born equal, and had an inalienable right to life, liberty,
and the pursuit of happiness; and that all governments
derive their just power from the consent of the governed.
Even the mottoes of newspapers have embodied sentiments
of the most insurrectionary character.
Such inscriptions as "Resistance to tyrants is obedience
to God " stand, to this day, in large letters, at the head of
southern newspapers; while speeches of senators and pub
lic men, in which the principles of universal democracy are
asserted, are constant matters of discussion. Under such
circumstances, it is difficult to induce the servant, who
feels that he is a man, to draw those lines which seem so
obvious to masters, by whom this fact has been forgotten.
Accordingly we find that when the discussions for the
admission of Missouri as a slave state produced a wave
whose waters undulated in every part of the Union, there
were found among the slaves men of unusual thought and
vigor, who were no inattentive witnesses and listeners.
The discussions were printed in the newspapers; and what
was printed in the newspapers was further discussed at the
post-office door, in the tavern, in the bar-room, at the
dinner-party, where black servants were listening behind
the chairs. A free colored man in the city of Charleston,
named Denmark Vesey, was the one who had the hardi
hood to seek to use the electric fluid in the cloud thus
accumulated. He conceived the hopeless project of imitat-
256 DRED
ing the example set by the American race, and achieving
independence for the blacks.
Our knowledge of this man is derived entirely from the
printed reports of the magistrates who gave an account of
the insurrection of which he was the instigator, and who
will not, of course, be supposed to be unduly prejudiced
in his favor. They state that he was first brought to the
country by one Captain Vesey, a young lad, distinguished
for personal beauty and great intelligence, and that he
proved, for twenty years, a most faithful slave; but on
drawing a prize of fifteen hundred dollars in the lottery,
he purchased his freedom of his master, and worked as a
carpenter in the city of Charleston. He was distinguished
for strength and activity, and, as the accounts state, main
tained such an irreproachable character, and enjoyed so
much the confidence of the whites, that when he was ac
cused, the charge was not only discredited, but he was not
even arrested for several days after, and not till the proof
of his guilt had become too strong to be doubted. His
historians go on, with considerable naivete, to remark :
"It is difficult to conceive what motive he had to enter
into such a plot, unless it was the one mentioned by one
of the witnesses, who said that Vesey had several children
who were slaves, and that he said, on one occasion, he
wished he could see them free, as he himself artfully re
marked in his defense on his trial."
It appears that the project of rousing and animating the
blacks to this enterprise occupied the mind of Vesey for
more than four years, during which time he was contin
ually taking opportunities to animate and inspire the spirits
of his countrymen. The account states that the speeches
in Congress of those opposed to the admission of Missouri
into the Union, perhaps garbled and misrepresented, fur
nished him with ample means for inflaming the minds of
the colored population.
THE CONSPIRATORS 257
"Even while walking in the street," the account goes
on to say, "he was not idle; for if his companion bowed
to a white person, as slaves universally do, he would
rebuke him, and observe, * that all men were born equal,
and that he was surprised that any one would degrade
himself by such conduct; that he would never cringe to
the whites nor ought any one to who had the feelings of
a man. 1 When answered, We are slaves, he would
say sarcastically and indignantly, You deserve to remain
slaves ! And if he were further asked, What can we
do ? he would remark, Go and buy a spelling-book, and
read the fable of "Hercules and the Wagoner." He also
sought every opportunity of entering into conversation with
white persons, during which conversation he would artfully
introduce some bold remark on slavery; and sometimes,
when, from the character he was conversing with, he found
he might be still bolder, he would go so far that, had not
his declarations been clearly proved, they would scarcely
have been credited."
But his great instrument of influence was a book that
has always been prolific of insurrectionary movements,
under all systems of despotism.
"He rendered himself perfectly familiar with all those
parts of Scripture which he thought he could pervert to
his purpose, and would readily quote them to prove that
slavery was contrary to the laws of God, and that slaves
were bound to attempt their emancipation, however shock
ing and bloody might be the consequences; that such
efforts would not only be pleasing to the Almighty, but
were absolutely enjoined."
Vesey, in the course of time, associated with himself
five slave men of marked character Rolla, Ned, Peter,
Monday, and Gullah Jack. Of these, the account goes on
to say :
1 These extracts are taken from the official report.
VOL. I.
258 DEED
"In the selection of his leaders, Vesey showed great
penetration and sound judgment. Kolla was plausible,
and possessed uncommon self-possession; hold and ardent,
he was not to he deterred from his purpose hy danger.
Ned s appearance indicated that he was a man of firm
nerves and desperate courage. Peter was intrepid and
resolute, true to his engagements, and cautious in observ
ing secrecy where it was necessary; he was not to be
daunted nor impeded by difficulties, and though confident
of success, was careful in providing against any obstacles
or casualties which might arise, and intent upon discover
ing every means which might be in their power, if thought
of beforehand. Gullah Jack was regarded as a sorcerer,
and, as such, feared by the natives of Africa, who believed
in witchcraft. He was not only considered invulnerable,
but that he could make others so by his charms, and that
he could, and certainly would, provide all his followers
with arms. He was artful, cruel, bloody ; his disposition,
in short, was diabolical. His influence among the Africans
was inconceivable. Monday was firm, resolute, discreet,
and intelligent.
"It is a melancholy truth that the general good conduct
of all the leaders, except Gullah Jack, was such as ren
dered them objects least liable to suspicion. Their con
duct had secured them, not only the unlimited confidence
of their owners, but they had been indulged in every com
fort, and allowed every privilege compatible with their
situation in the community; and though Gullah Jack was
not remarkable for the correctness of his deportment, he
by no means sustained a bad character. But," adds the
report, "not only were the leaders of good character, and
very much indulged by their owners, but this was very
generally the case with all who were convicted, many of
them possessing the highest confidence of their owners,
and not one a bad character.
THE CONSPIRATORS 259
"The conduct and behavior of Vesey and his five leaders
during their trial and imprisonment may be interesting to
many. When Vesey was tried, he folded his arms, and
seemed to pay great attention to the testimony given
against him, but with his eyes fixed on the floor. In this
situation he remained immovable until the witnesses had
been examined by the court, and cross-examined by his
counsel, when he requested to be allowed to examine the
witnesses himself, which he did. The evidence being
closed, he addressed the court at considerable length.
When he received his sentence, tears trickled down his
cheeks.
"Rolla, when arraigned, affected not to understand the
charge against him, and when, at his request, it was ex
plained to him, assumed, with wonderful adroitness, aston
ishment and surprise. He was remarkable throughout his
trial for composure and great presence of mind. When
he was informed that he was convicted, and was advised
to prepare for death, he appeared perfectly confounded,
but exhibited no signs of fear.
"In Ned s behavior there was nothing remarkable. His
countenance was stern and immovable, even while he was
receiving sentence of death. From his looks it was impos
sible to discover or conjecture what were his feelings.
Not so with Peter Poyes. In his countenance were
strongly marked disappointed ambition, revenge, indigna
tion, and an anxiety to know how far the discoveries had
extended. He did not appear to fear personal conse
quences, for his whole behavior indicated the reverse, but
exhibited an evident anxiety for the success of their plan,
in which his whole soul was embarked. His countenance
and behavior were the same when he received his sentence,
and his only words were, on retiring, I suppose you 11
let me see my wife and family before I die, and that in
no supplicating tone. When he was asked, a day or two
2GO DEED
after, If it was possible that he could see his master and
family murdered, who had treated him so kindly ? he
replied to the question only by a smile. In their prison,
the convicts resolutely refused to make any confessions or
communications which might implicate others; and Peter
Poyes sternly enjoined it upon them to maintain this
silence, Do not open your lips; die silent, as you will
see me do ! and in this resolute silence they met their
fate. Twenty-two of the conspirators were executed upon
one gallows."
The account says that "Peter Poyes was one of the
most active of the recruiting agents. All the principal
conspirators kept a list of those who had consented to join
them, and Peter was said, by one of the witnesses, to have
had six hundred names on his list; but so resolutely to
the last did he observe his pledge of secrecy to his associ
ates, that, of the whole number arrested and tried, not one
of them belonged to his company. In fact, in an insurrec
tion in which thousands of persons were supposed to have
been implicated, only thirty-six were convicted."
Among the children of Denmark Vesey was a boy by
a Mandingo slave woman, who was his father s particular
favorite. The Mandingos are one of the finest of African
tribes, distinguished for intelligence, beauty of form, and
an indomitable pride and energy of nature. As slaves,
they are considered particularly valuable by those who
have tact enough to govern them, because of their great
capability and their proud faithfulness; but they resent a
government of brute force, and under such are always frac
tious and dangerous.
This boy received from his mother the name of Dred;
a name not unusual among the slaves, and generally given
to those of great physical force.
The development of this child s mind was so uncommon
as to excite astonishment among the negroes. He early
THE CONSPIRATORS 261
acquired the power of reading, by an apparent instinctive
faculty, and would often astonish those around him with
things which he had discovered in books. Like other
children of a deep and fervent nature, he developed great
religious ardor, and often surprised the older negroes by
his questions and replies on this subject. A son so en
dowed could not but be an object of great pride and inter
est to a father like Denmark Vesey. The impression
seemed to prevail universally among the negroes that this
child was born for extraordinary things; and perhaps it
was the yearning to acquire liberty for the development
of such a mind which first led Denmark Vesey to reflect on
the nature of slavery, and the terrible weights which it
lays on the human intellect, and to conceive the project of
liberating a race.
The Bible, of which Vesey was an incessant reader,
stimulated this desire. He likened his own position of
comparative education, competence, and general esteem
among the whites to that of Moses among the Egyptians;
and nourished the idea that, like Moses, he was sent as
a deliverer. During the process of the conspiracy, this
son, though but ten years of age, was his father s confi
dant; and he often charged him, though he should fail in
the attempt, never to be discouraged. He impressed it
upon his mind that he should never submit tamely to the
yoke of slavery; and nourished the idea already impressed,
that some more than ordinary destiny was reserved for
him. After the discovery of the plot, and the execution
of its leaders, those more immediately connected with them
were sold from the state, even though not proved to have
participated. With the most guarded caution, Vesey had
exempted this son from suspicion. It had been an agreed
policy with them both, that in the presence of others they
should counterfeit alienation and dislike. Their confiden
tial meetings with each other had been stolen and secret.
262 DRED
At the time of his father s execution, Dred was a lad of
fourteen. He could not be admitted to his father s prison,
but he was a witness of the undaunted aspect with which
he and the other conspirators met their doom. The mem
ory dropped into the depths of his soul, as a stone drops
into the desolate depths of a dark mountain lake.
Sold to a distant plantation, he became noted for his
desperate, unsubduable disposition. He joined in none of
the social recreations and amusements of the slaves, labored
with proud and silent assiduity, but on the slightest
rebuke or threat, flashed up with a savage fierceness which,
supported by his immense bodily strength, made him an
object of dread among overseers. He was one of those
of whom they gladly rid themselves, and like a fractious
horse, was sold from master to master. Finally, an over
seer, hardier than the rest, determined on the task of sub
duing him. In the scuffle that ensued Dred struck him
to the earth, a dead man, made his escape to the swamps,
and was never afterwards heard of in civilized life.
The reader who consults the map will discover that the
whole eastern shore of the southern states, with slight
interruptions, is belted by an immense chain of swamps,
regions of hopeless disorder, where the abundant growth
and vegetation of nature, sucking up its forces from the
humid soil, seem to rejoice in a savage exuberance, and
bid defiance to all human efforts either to penetrate or
subdue. These wild regions are the homes of the alliga
tor, the moccasin, and the rattlesnake. Evergreen trees,
mingling freely with the deciduous children of the forest,
form here dense jungles, verdant all the year round, and
which afford shelter to numberless birds, with whose war
bling the leafy desolation perpetually resounds. Climbing
vines and parasitic plants, of untold splendor and bound
less exuberance of growth, twine and interlace, and hang
from the heights of the highest trees pennons of gold and
THE CONSPIRATORS 263
purple, triumphal banners, which attest the solitary
majesty of nature. A species of parasitic moss wreathes its
abundant draperies from tree to tree, and hangs in pearly
festoons through which shine the scarlet berry and green
leaves of the American holly.
What the mountains of Switzerland were to the perse
cuted Vaudois, this swampy belt has been to the American
slave. The constant effort to recover from thence fugitives
has led to the adoption, in these states, of a separate pro
fession, unknown at this time in any other Christian land
hunters, who train and keep dogs for the hunting of
men, women, and children. And yet, with all the con
venience of this profession, the reclaiming of the fugitives
from these fastnesses of nature has been a work of such
expense and difficulty that the near proximity of the
swamp has always been a considerable check on the other
wise absolute power of the overseer. Dred carried with
him to the swamp but one solitary companion the Bible
of his father. To him it was not the messenger of peace
and good will, but the herald of woe and wrath !
As the mind, looking on the great volume of nature,
sees there a reflection of its own internal passions, and
seizes on that in it which sympathizes with itself, as the
fierce and savage soul delights in the roar of torrents, the
thunder of avalanches, and the whirl of ocean storms,
so is it in the great answering volume of revelation. There
is something there for every phase of man s nature; and
hence its endless vitality and stimulating force. Dred had
heard read in the secret meetings of conspirators the wrath
ful denunciations of ancient prophets against oppression
and injustice. He had read of kingdoms convulsed by
plagues; of tempest, and pestilence, and locusts; of the
sea cleft in twain, that an army of slaves might pass
through and of their pursuers whelmed in the returning
waters. He had heard of prophets and deliverers, armed
264 DEED
with supernatural powers, raised up for oppressed people;
had pondered on the nail of Jael, the goad of Shamgar, the
pitcher and lamp of Gideon; and thrilled with fierce joy
as he read how Samson, with his two strong arms, pulled
down the pillars of the festive temple, and whelmed his
triumphant persecutors in one grave with himself.
In the vast solitudes which he daily traversed, these
things entered deep into his soul. Cut off from all human
companionship, often going weeks without seeing a human
face, there was no recurrence of every-day and prosaic ideas
to check the current of the enthusiasm thus kindled.
Even in the soil of the cool Saxon heart the Bible has
thrown out its roots with an all-pervading energy, so that
the whole framework of society may be said to rest on
soil held together by its fibres. Even in cold and misty
England, armies have been made defiant and invincible
by the incomparable force and deliberate valor which it
breathes into men. But when this Oriental seed, an ex
otic among us, is planted back in the fiery soil of a tropical
heart, it bursts forth with an incalculable ardor of growth.
A stranger cannot fail to remark the fact that, though
the slaves of the South are unable to read the Bible for
themselves, yet most completely have its language and sen
timent penetrated among them, giving a Hebraistic color
ing to their habitual mode of expression. How much
greater, then, must have been the force of the solitary
perusal of this volume on so impassioned a nature ! a
nature, too, kindled by memories of the self-sacrificing
ardor with which a father and his associates had met death
at the call of freedom ; for none of us may deny that,
wild and hopeless as this scheme was, it was still the same
in kind with the more successful one which purchased for
our fathers a national existence.
A mind of the most passionate energy and vehemence,
thus awakened, for years made the wild solitudes of the
THE CONSPIRATORS 265
swamp its home. That book, so full of startling symbols
and vague images, had for him no interpreter but the silent
courses of nature. His life passed in a kind of dream.
Sometimes, traversing for weeks these desolate regions, he
would compare himself to Elijah traversing for forty days
and nights the solitudes of Horeb; or to John the Baptist
in the wilderness, girding himself with camel s hair, and
eating locusts and wild honey. Sometimes he would fast
and pray for days; and then voices would seem to speak
to him, and strange hieroglyphics would be written upon
the leaves. In less elevated moods of mind, he would
pursue, with great judgment and vigor, those enterprises
necessary to preserve existence. The negroes lying out in
the swamps are not so wholly cut off from society as might
at first be imagined. The slaves of all the adjoining plan
tations, whatever they may pretend, to secure the good
will of their owners, are at heart secretly disposed, from
motives both of compassion and policy, to favor the fugi
tives. They very readily perceive that, in the event of
any difficulty occurring to themselves, it might be quite
necessary to have a friend and protector in the swamp;
and therefore they do not hesitate to supply these fugitives,
so far as they are able, with anything which they may
desire. The poor whites, also, who keep small shops in
the neighborhood of plantations, are never particularly
scrupulous, provided they can turn a penny to their own
advantage, and willingly supply necessary wares in ex
change for game, with which the swamp abounds.
Dred, therefore, came in possession of an excellent rifle,
and never wanted for ammunition, which supplied him
with an abundance of food. Besides this, there are here
and there elevated spots in the swampy land, which, by
judicious culture, are capable of great productiveness.
And many such spots Dred had brought under cultivation,
either with his own hands, or from those of other fugitives,
266 DEED
whom he had received and protected. From the restless
ness of his nature, he had not confined himself to any par
ticular region, but had traversed the whole swampy belt of
both the Carolinas, as well as that of Southern Virginia;
residing a few months in one place, and a few months in
another. Wherever he stopped, he formed a sort of re
treat, where he received and harbored fugitives. On one
occasion, he rescued a trembling and bleeding mulatto
woman from the dogs of the hunters, who had pursued
her into the swamp. This woman he made his wife, and
appeared to entertain a very deep affection for her. He
made a retreat for her, with more than common ingenuity,
in the swamp adjoining the Gordon plantation; and after
that, he was more especially known in that locality. He
had fixed his eye upon Harry, as a person whose ability,
address, and strength of character might make him at
some day a leader in a conspiracy against the whites.
Harry, in common with many of the slaves on the Gordon
plantation, knew perfectly well of the presence of Dred in
the neighborhood, and had often seen and conversed with
him. But neither he nor any of the rest of them ever
betrayed before any white person the slightest knowledge
of the fact.
This ability of profound secrecy is one of the invariable
attendants of a life of slavery. Harry was acute enough
to know that his position was by no means so secure that
he could afford to dispense with anything which might
prove an assistance in some future emergency. The low
white traders in the neighborhood also knew Dred well;
but as long as they could drive an advantageous trade
with him he was secure from their intervention. So
secure had he been, that he had been even known to
mingle in the motley throng of a camp-meeting unmolested.
Thus much with regard to one who is to appear often on
the stage before our history is done.
CHAPTER XX
SUMMER TALK AT CANEMA
IN the course of a few days the family circle at Canema
was enlarged by the arrival of Clayton s sister; and Car
son, in excellent spirits, had started for a northern water
ing-place. In answer to Nina s letter of invitation, Anne
had come with her father, who was called to that vicinity
by the duties of his profession. Nina received her with
her usual gay frankness of manner; and Anne, like many
others, soon found herself liking her future sister much
better than she had expected. Perhaps, had Nina been in
any other situation than that of hostess, her pride might
have led her to decline making the agreeable to Anne,
whom, notwithstanding, she very much wished to please.
But she was mistress of the mansion, and had an Arab s
idea of the privileges of a guest ; and so she chatted, sang,
and played for her; she took her about, showed her the
walks, the arbors, the flower-garden; waited on her in her
own apartment, with a thousand little attentions, all the
more fascinating from the kind of careless independence
with which they were rendered. Besides, Nina had vowed
a wicked little vow in her heart that she would ride rough
shod over Anne s dignity; that she wouldn t let her be
grave or sensible, but that she should laugh and frolic
with her. And Clayton could scarce help smiling at the
success that soon crowned her exertions. Nina s gayety,
when in full tide, had a breezy infectiousness in it, that
seemed to stir up every one about her and carry them on
the tide of her own spirits; and Anne, in her company,
268 DEED
soon found herself laughing at everything and nothing,
simply because she felt gay.
To crown all, Uncle John Gordon arrived, with his
cheery, jovial face; and he was one of those fearless, hit-
or-miss talkers, that are invaluable in social dilemmas,
because they keep something or other all the while in
motion.
With him came Madam Gordon, or, as Nina commonly
called her, Aunt Maria. She was a portly, finely formed,
middle-aged woman, who might have been handsome, had
not the lines of care and nervous anxiety ploughed them
selves so deeply in her face. Her bright, keen, hazel eyes,
fine teeth, and the breadth of her ample form attested the
vitality of the old Virginia stock from whence she sprung.
"There," said Nina to Anne Clayton, as they sat in
the shady side of the veranda, "I ve marshaled Aunt
Maria up into Aunt Nesbit s room, and there they will
have a comfortable dish of lamentation over me."
" Over you ? " said Anne.
"Yes over me, to be sure! that s the usual order
of exercises. Such a setting down as I shall get! They 11
count up on their fingers all the things I ought to know
and don t, and ought to do and can t. I believe that s
the way relatives always show their affection aunts in
particular by mourning over you. "
" And what sort of a list will they make out 1 " said
Anne.
"Oh, bless me, that s easy enough. Why, there s
Aunt Maria is a perfectly virulent housekeeper really
insane, I believe, on that subject. Why, she chases up
every rat and mouse and cockroach, every particle of dust,
every scrap of litter. She divides her hours, and is as
punctual as a clock. She rules her household with a rod
of iron, and makes everybody stand round; and tells each
one how many times a day one may wink. She keeps
SUMMER TALK AT CANEMA 269
accounts like a very dragon, and always is sure to pounce
on anybody that is in the least out of the way. She cuts
out clothes by the bale; she sews, and she knits, and she
jingles keys. And all this kind of bustle she calls house
keeping ! Now, what do you suppose she must think of
me, who just put on my hat in the morning, and go sail
ing down the walks, looking at the flowers, till Aunt Katy
calls me back, to know what my orders are for the day 1 "
"Pray, who is Aunt Katy? " said Anne.
"Oh, she is my female prime minister; and she is very
much like some prime ministers I have studied about in
history, who always contrive to have their own way, let
what will come. Now, when Aunt Katy comes and wants
to know, so respectfully, What Miss Nina is going to
have for dinner, do you suppose she has the least expecta
tion of getting anything that I order? She always has
fifty objections to anything that I propose. For sometimes
the fit comes over me to try to be housekeepy, like Aunt
Maria; but it s no go, I can tell you. So, when she has
proved that everything that I propose is the height of
absurdity, and shown conclusively that there s nothing fit
to be eaten in the neighborhood, by that time I am reduced
to a proper state of mind. And when I humbly say,
* Aunt Katy, what shall we do ? then she gives a little
cough, and out comes the whole programme, just as she
had arranged it the night before. And so it goes. As to
accounts, why Harry has to look after them. I detest
everything about money, except the spending of it I
have rather a talent for that. Now, just think how
awfully all this must impress poor Aunt Maria! What
sighings, and rollings up of eyes, and shakings of heads,
there are over me! And then, Aunt Nesbit is always
dinging at me about improving my mind ! And improving
my mind means reading some horrid, stupid, boring old
book, just as she does ! Now, I like the idea of improv-
270 DEED
ing my mind. I am sure it wants improving, bad enough;
but then, I can t help thinking that racing through the
garden, and cantering through the woods, improves it faster
than getting asleep over books. It seems to me that books
are just like dry hay very good when there isn t any
fresh grass to be had. But I d rather be out and eat
what s growing. Now, what people call nature never
bores me; but almost every book I ever saw does. Don t
you think people are made differently 1 Some like books,
and some like things; don t you think so? "
" I can give you a good fact on your side of the argu
ment, " said Clayton, who had come up behind them during
the conversation.
"I didn t know I was arguing; but I shall be glad to
have anything on my side," said Nina, "of course."
"Well, then," said Clayton, "I ll say that the books
that have influenced the world the longest, the widest, and
deepest have been written by men who attended to things
more than to books; who, as you say, eat what was grow
ing, instead of dry hay. Homer couldn t have had much
to read in his time, nor the poets of the Bible; and they
have been fountains for all ages. I don t believe Shake
speare was much of a reader."
"Well, but," said Anne, "don t you think that, for us
common folks, who are not going to be either Homers or
Shakespeares, that it s best to have two strings to our bow,
and to gain instruction both from books and things 1 "
"To be sure," said Clayton, "if we only use books
aright. With many people, reading is only a form of
mental indolence, by which they escape the labor of think
ing for themselves. Some persons are like Pharaoh s lean
kine ; they swallow book upon book, but remain as lean as
"My grandfather used to say," said Anne, "that the
Bible and Shakespeare were enough for a woman s library."
SUMMER TALK AT CANEMA 271
"Well," said Nina, "I don t like Shakespeare, there!
I m coming out flat with it. In the first place, I don t
understand half he says; and then, they talk about his
being so very natural! I m sure I never heard people talk
as he makes them. Now, did you ever hear people talk
in blank verse, with every now and then one or two lines
of rhyme, as his characters do when they go off in long
speeches 1 Now, did you 1 "
"As to that," said Clayton, "it s about half and half.
His conversations have just about the same resemblance to
real life that acting at the opera has. It is not natural for
Norma to burst into a song when she discovers the treach
ery of her husband. You make that concession to the
nature of the opera, in the first place; and then, with that
reserve, all the rest strikes you as natural, and the music
gives an added charm to it. So in Shakespeare, you con
cede that the plays are to be poems, and that the people
are to talk in rhythm, and with all the exaltation of poetic
sentiment; and that being admitted, their conversations
may seem natural."
"But I can t understand a great deal that Shakespeare
says," said Nina.
"Because so many words and usages are altered since he
wrote," said Clayton. "Because there are so many allu
sions to incidents that have passed, and customs that have
perished, that you have, as it were, to acquire his language
before you can understand him. Suppose a poem were
written in a foreign tongue; you couldn t say whether you
liked it or disliked it till you could read the language.
Now, my opinion is, that there is a liking for Shakespeare
hidden in your nature, like a seed that has not sprouted."
" What makes you think so 1 "
"Oh, I see it in you, just as a sculptor sees a statue in
a block of marble. "
" And are you going to chisel it out 1 " said Nina.
272 DEED
"With your leave," said Clayton. "After all, I like
your sincerity in saying what you do think. I have often
heard ladies profess an admiration for Shakespeare that I
knew could n t be real. I knew that they had neither the
experience of life nor the insight into human nature
really to appreciate what is in him; and that their liking
for him was all a worked-up affair, because they felt it
would be very shocking not to like him."
"Well," said Nina, "I m much obliged to you for all
the sense you find in my nonsense. I believe I shall keep
you to translate my fooleries into good English."
"You know I m quite at your disposal," said Clayton,
"for that or anything else."
At this moment the attention of Nina was attracted by
loud exclamations from that side of the house where the
negro cottages were situated.
"Get along off! don t want none o yo old trash here!
No, no, Miss Nina don t want none o yo old fish! She s
got plenty of niggers to ketch her own fish."
"Somebody taking my name in vain in those regions,"
said Nina, running to the other end of the veranda.
"Tomtit," she said to that young worthy, who lay flat on
his back, kicking up his heels in the sun, waiting for his
knives to clean themselves, "pray tell me what s going on
there ! "
"Laws, missis," said Tom, "it s just one of dese yer
poor white trash, coming round here trying to sell one
thing o nother. Miss Loo says it won t do courage em,
and I s de same pinion."
"Send him round here to me," said Nina, who, partly
from humanity, and partly from a spirit of contradiction,
had determined to take up for the poor white folks, on all
occasions. Tomtit ran accordingly, and soon brought to
the veranda a man whose wretchedly tattered clothing
scarcely formed a decent covering. His cheeks were
SUMMER TALK AT CANEMA 273
sunken and hollow, and he stood before Nina with a cring
ing, half-ashamed attitude; and yet one might see that,
with better dress and better keeping, he might be made to
assume the appearance of a handsome, intelligent man.
" What do you ask for your fish ? " she said to him.
"Anything ye pleases! "
" Where do you live 1 " said Nina, drawing out her
purse.
"My folks s staying on Mr. Gordon s place."
"Why don t you get a place of your own to stay on?"
said Nina.
There was an impatient glance flashed from the man s
eye, but it gave place immediately to his habitual cowed
expression, as he said,
"Can t get work can t get money can t get no
thing."
"Dear me," said her Uncle John, who had been stand
ing for a moment listening to the conversation. "This
must be husband of that poor hobgoblin that has lighted
down on my place lately. Well, you may as well pay him
a good price for his fish. Keep them from starving one
day longer, maybe." And Nina paid the man a liberal
sum and dismissed him.
"I suppose, now, all my eloquence wouldn t make Rose
cook those fish for dinner," said Nina.
" Why not, if you told her to 1 " said Aunt Maria, who
had also descended to the veranda.
" Why not 1 Just because, as she would say, she
had n t laid out to do it."
"That s not the way my servants are taught to do!"
said Aunt Maria.
"I 11 warrant not," said Nina. "But yours and mine
are quite different affairs, aunt. They all do as they have
a mind to, in my diggings. All I stipulated for is a little
of the same privilege."
VOL. I.
274 DEED
"That man s wife and children have come and squatted
down on my place," said Mr. Gordon, laughing; "and so,
Nin, all you paid for his fish is just so much saving to
me."
"Yes, to be sure! Mr. Gordon is just one of those
men that will have a tribe of shiftless hangers-on at his
heels ! " said Mrs. Gordon.
"Well, bless my soul! what s a fellow to do? Can t
see the poor heathen starve, can we 1 ? If society could
only be organized over, now, there would be hope for
them. The brain ought to control the hands; but among
us the hands try to set up for themselves ; and see what
comes of it ! "
"Who do you mean by brain? " said Nina.
" Who 1 Why, we upper crust, to be sure ! We edu
cated people ! We ought to have an absolute sway over
the working classes, just as the brain rules the hand. It
must come to that, at last no other arrangement is possi
ble. The white working classes can t take care of them
selves, and must be put into a condition for us to take care
of them. What is liberty to them? Only a name
liberty to be hungry and naked, that s all. It J s the
strangest thing in the world, how people stick to names!
I suppose that fellow, up there, would flare up terribly at
being put in with my niggers; and yet he and his children
are glad of the crumbs that fall from their table! It s
astonishing to me how, with such examples before them,
any decent man can be so stone-blind as to run atilt
against slavery. Just compare the free working classes
with our slaves! Dear me! the blindness of people in
this world ! It s too much for my patience, particularly
in hot weather ! " said Mr. John, wiping his face with a
white pocket-handkerchief.
"Well, but, Uncle John," said Nina, "my dear old
gentleman, you haven t traveled, as I have."
SUMMER TALK AT CANEMA 275
"No, child! I thank the Lord I never stepped my foot
out of a slave state, and I never mean to," said Uncle
John.
"But you ought to see the northern working people,"
said Nina. "Why, the governors of the states are farmers,
sometimes, and work with their own men. The brain and
the hand go together, in each one not one great brain
to fifty pair of hands. And, I tell you, work is done up
there very differently from what s done here! Just look
at our ploughs and our hoes ! the most ridiculous things
that I ever saw. I should think one of them would weigh
ten pouncjs ! "
"Well, if you don t have em heavy enough to go into
the ground by their own weight, these cussed lazy nigs
won t do anything with them. They d break a dozen
Yankee hoes in a forenoon," said Uncle John.
"Now," said Nina, "Uncle John, you clear old heathen,
you ! do let me tell you a little how it is there. I went
up into New Hampshire, once, with Livy Kay, to spend
a vacation. Livy s father is a farmer; works part of every
day with his own men; hoes, digs, plants; but he is gov
ernor of the state. He has a splendid farm all in first-
rate order; and his sons, with two or three hired men,
keep it in better condition than our places ever saw. Mr.
Ray is a man who reads a great deal; has a fine library,
and he s as much of a gentleman as you 11 often see.
There are no high and low classes there. Everybody
works; and everybody seems to have a good time. Livy s
mother has a beautiful dairy, spring-house, and two strong
women to help her; and everything in the house looks
beautifully; and, for the greater part of the day, the house
seems so neat and still, you would n t know anything had
been done in it. Seems to me this is better than making
slaves of all the working classes, or having any working
classes at all."
276 DEED
" How wise young ladies always are ! " said Uncle John.
"Undoubtedly the millennium is begun in New Hamp
shire! But, pray, my dear, what part do young ladies
take in all this ? Seems to me, Nin, you have n t picked
up much of this improvement in person."
"Oh, as to that, I labor in my vocation," said Nina;
"that is, of enlightening dull, sleepy old gentlemen, who
never traveled out of the state they were born in, and
don t know what can be done. I come as a missionary to
them; I m sure that s work enough for one."
"Well," said Aunt Maria, "I know I am as great a
slave as any of the poor whites, or negroes either. There
is n t a soul in my whole troop that pretends to take any
care, except me, either about themselves or their children,
or anything else."
"I hope that isn t a slant at me!" said Uncle John,
shrugging his shoulders.
"I must say you are as bad as any of them," said Aunt
Maria.
"There it goes! now, I m getting it!" said Uncle
John. "I declare, the next time we get a preacher out
here, I m going to make him hold forth on the duties of
wives ! "
" And husbands, too ! " said Aunt Maria.
"Do," said Nina; "I should like a little prospective
information. "
Nina, as often, spoke before she thought. Uncle John
gave a malicious look at Clayton. Nina could not recall
the words. She colored deeply, and went on hastily to
change the subject.
"At any rate, I know that aunt, here, has a much
harder time than housekeepers do in the free states. Just
the shoes she wears out chasing up her negroes would hire
help enough to do all her work. They used to have an
idea up there, that all the southern ladies did was to lie
SUMMER TALK AT CANEMA 277
on the sofa. I used to tell them it was as much as they
knew about it."
"Your cares don t seem to have worn you much!" said
Uncle John.
"Well, they will, Uncle John, if you don t behave
better. It s enough to break anybody down to keep you
in order."
"I wish," said Uncle John, shrugging up his shoulders,
and looking quizzically at Clayton, "somebody would take
warning ! "
"For my part," said Aunt Maria, "I know one thing:
I d be glad to get rid of my negroes. Sometimes I think
life is such a burden that I don t think it s worth hav
ing."
"Oh no, you don t, mother!" said Uncle John; "not
with such a charming husband as you ve got, who relieves
you from all care so perfectly ! "
"I declare," said Nina, looking along the avenue,
"what s that? Why, if there isn t Old Tiff, coming along
with his children ! "
" Who is he 1 " said Aunt Maria.
"Oh, he belongs to one of these miserable families," said
Aunt Nesbit, "that have squatted in the pine woods some
where about here a poor, worthless set! but Nina has
a great idea of patronizing them. "
" Clear Gordon, every inch of her ! " said Aunt Maria,
as Nina ran down to meet Tiff. " Just like her uncle ! "
"Come, now, old lady, I ll tell of you, if you don t
take care!" said Mr. Gordon. "Didn t I find you put
ting up a basket of provisions for those folks you scolded
me so for taking in 1 "
" Scold, Mr. Gordon ? I never scold ! "
" I beg pardon that you reproved me for ! "
Ladies generally are not displeased for being reproached
for their charities; and Aunt Maria, whose bark, to use
278 DEED
a vulgar proverb, was infinitely worse than her bite, sat
fanning herself, with an air of self-complacency. Mean
while, Nina had run down the avenue, and was busy in a
confidential communication with Tiff. On her return, she
came skipping up the steps, apparently in high glee.
"Oh, Uncle John! there s the greatest fun getting up!
You must all go, certainly! What do you think? Tiff
says there s to be a camp-meeting in the neighborhood,
only about five miles off from his place. Let s make up
a party, and all go ! "
"That s the time of day ! " said Uncle John. "I enroll
myself under your banner at once. I am open to improve
ment ! Anybody wants to convert me, here I am ! "
"The trouble with you, Uncle John," said Nina, "is
that you don t stay converted. You are just like one of
these heavy fishes you bite very sharp ; but before any
body can get you fairly on to the bank, you are flapping
and floundering back into the water, and down you go into
your sins again. I know at least three ministers who
thought they had hooked you out; but they were mis
taken."
"For my part," said Aunt Maria, "I think these camp-
meetings do more harm than good. They collect all the
scum and the riff-raff of the community, and I believe
there s more drinking done at camp-meetings in one week
than is done in six anywhere else. Then, of course, all
the hands will want to be off; and Mr. Gordon has brought
them up so that they feel dreadfully abused if they are not
in with everything that s going on. I shall set down my
foot, this year, that they sha n t go any day except Sun
day."
"My wife knows that she was always celebrated for
having the handsomest foot in the country, and so she is
always setting it down at me!" said Mr. Gordon; "for
she knows that a pretty foot is irresistible with me."
SUMMER TALK AT CANEMA 279
"Mr. Gordon, how can you talk so? I should think
that you d got old enough not to make such silly
speeches ! " said Aunt Maria.
"Silly speeches! It s a solemn fact, and you won t
hear anything truer at the camp-meeting ! " said Uncle
John. "But come, Clayton, will you go? My dear fel
low, your grave face will be an appropriate ornament to
the scene, I can assure you; and as to Miss Anne, it
won t do for an old fellow like me, in this presence, to
say what a happiness it would be."
"I suspect," said Anne, "Edward is afraid he maybe
called on for some of the services. People are always
taking him for a clergyman, and asking him to say grace
at meals, and to conduct family prayers, when he is travel
ing among strangers."
"It s a comment on our religion, that these should be
thought peculiar offices of clergymen," said Clayton.
"Every Christian man ought to be ready and willing to
take them."
"I honor that sentiment! " said Uncle John. "A man
ought not to be ashamed of his religion anywhere, no more
than a soldier of his colors. I believe there s more reli
gion hid in the hearts of honest laymen, now, than is
plastered up behind the white cravats of clergymen; and
they ought to come out with it. Not that I have any
disrespect for the clergy, either," said Uncle John.
"Fine men a little stiffish, and don t call things by
good English names. Always talking about dispensation,
and sanctification, and edification, and so forth; but I like
them. They are sincere. I suppose they wouldn t any
of them give me a chance for heaven, because I rip out
with an oath, every now and then. But the fact is, what
with niggers and overseers and white trash, my chances
of salvation are dreadfully limited. I can t help swearing,
now and then, if I was to die for it. They say it s dread-
280 DEED
fully wicked; but I feel more Christian when I let out
than when I keep in ! "
"Mr. Gordon," said Aunt Maria reprovingly, "do con
sider what you re saying! "
"My dear, I am considering. I am considering all the
time ! I never do anything else but consider except, as
I said before, every now and then, when what- s-his-name
gets the advantage over me. And, hark you, Mrs. G.,
let s have things ready at our house, if any of the clergy
would like to spend a week or so with us; and we could
get them up some meetings, or any little thing in their
line. I always like to show respect for them."
"Our beds are always prepared for company, Mr. Gor
don," said Aunt Maria, with a stately air.
"Oh yes, yes, I don t doubt that! I only meant some
special preparation some little fatted-calf killing, and so
on."
"Now," said Nina, "shall we set off to-morrow morn
ing?"
"Agreed!" said Uncle John.
CHAPTER XXI
THE announcement of the expected camp-meeting pro
duced a vast sensation at Canema in other circles beside
the hall. In the servants department, everybody was
full of the matter, from Aunt Katy down to Tomtit. The
women were thinking over their available finery; for these
gatherings furnish the negroes with the same opportunity
of display that Grace Church does to the Broadway belles.
And so, before Old Tiff, who had brought the first intelli
gence to the plantation, had time to depart, Tomtit had
trumpeted the news through all the cluster of negro houses
that skirted the right side of the mansion, proclaiming that
"dere was gwine to be a camp-meeting, and tip-top work
of grace, and Miss Nina was going to let all de niggers
go." Old Tiff, therefore, found himself in a prominent
position in a group of negro women, among whom Rose,
the cook, was conspicuous.
"Law, Tiff, ye gwine? and gwine to take your chil en?
Ha! ha! ha!" said she. "Why, Miss Fanny, dey 11 tink
Tiff s yer mammy ! Ho ! ho ! ho ! "
" Yah ! yah ! Ho ! ho ! ho ! " roared in a chorus of
laughter on all sides, doing honor to Aunt Rose s wit;
and Tomtit, who hung upon the skirts of the crowd, threw
up the fragment of a hat in the air, and kicked it in an
abandon of joy, regardless of the neglected dinner-knives.
Old Tiff, mindful of dignities, never failed to propitiate
Rose, on his advents to the plantation, with the gift which
the "wise man saith maketh friends;" and on the present
282 DEED
occasion he had enriched her own peculiar stock of domes
tic fowl by the present of a pair of young partridge-chicks,
a nest of which he had just captured, intending to bring
them up by hand, as he did his children. By this discreet
course Tiff stood high where it was of most vital conse
quence that he should so stand; and many a choice morsel
did Rose cook for him in secret, besides imparting to him
most invaluable recipes on the culture and raising of suck
ing babies. Old Hundred, like many other persons, felt
that general attention lavished on any other celebrity was
so much taken from his own merits, and, therefore, on the
present occasion, sat regarding Tiff s evident popularity
with a cynical eye. At last, coming up, like a wicked
fellow as he was, he launched his javelin at Old Tiff, by
observing to his wife,
"I s stonished at you, Rose! You, cook to de Gor
dons, and making youself so cheap so familiar with de
poor white folks niggers ! "
Had the slant fallen upon himself, personally, Old Tiff
would probably have given a jolly crow, and laughed as
heartily as he generally did if he happened to be caught
out in a rainstorm; but the reflection on his family con
nection fired him up like a torch, and his eyes flashed
through his big spectacles like firelight through windows.
"You go long, talking bout what you don know
nothing bout! I like to know what you knows bout de
old Yirginny fam lies? Dem s de real old stock! You
Car lina folks come from dem, stick and stock, every blest
one of you! De Gordons is a nice family, ain t nothing
to say agin de Gordons, but whar was you raised, dat ye
didn t hear bout de Peytons? Why, old Gen al Peyton,
didn t he use to ride with six black horses afore him, as
if he d been a king 1 ? Dere wa n t one of dem horses dat
hadn t a tail as long as my arm. You never see no such
critters in your life ! "
TIFF S PREPARATIONS 283
" I hain t, hain t 1 1 " said Old Hundred, now, in his turn,
touched in a vital point. "Bless me, if I hain t seen de
Gordons riding out with der eight horses, any time o day ! "
"Come, come, now, dere wasn t so many!" said Eose,
who had her own reasons for staying on Tiff s side.
"Nobody never rode with eight horses! "
"Did too! You say much more, I ll make sixteen on
em! Fore my blessed Master, how dese yer old niggers
will lie! Dey s always zaggerating der families. Makes
de very liar rise on my head, to hear dese yer old niggers
talk, dey lie so ! " said Old Hundred.
"You tink folks dat take to lying is using up your busi
ness, don t ye?" said Tiff. "But, I tell you, any one
dat says a word agin de Peytons got me to set in with ! "
"Laws, dem chiFen ain t Peytons!" said Old Hundred;
"dey s Crippses; and I like to know who ever hearn of de
Crippses? Go way! don t tell me nothing about dem
Crippses! Dey s poor white folks! A body may see dat
sticking out all over em! "
"You shut up!" said Tiff. "I don t b lieve you was
born on de Gordon place, cause you ain t got no manners.
I spects you some old, second-hand nigger, Colonel Gordon
must a took for debt, some time, from some of dese yer
mean Tennessee families, dat don know how to keep der
money when dey gets it. Der niggers is allers de meanest
kind. Cause all de real Gordon niggers is ladies and
gen lemen every one of em! " said Old Tiff, like a true
orator, bent on carrying his audience along with him.
A general shout chorused this compliment; and Tiff,
under cover of the applause, shook up his reins, and rode
off in triumph.
"Dar, now, you aggravating old nigger," said Eose,
turning to her bosom lord, "I hope yer got it now! De
plaguest old nigger dat ever I see! And you, Tom, go
long and clean your knives, if yer don t mean to be
cracked over ! "
284 DEED
Meanwhile Tiff, restored to his usual tranquillity, am
bled along homeward behind his one-eyed horse, singing
"I m bound for the land of Canaan," with some surprising
variations.
At last Miss Fanny, as he constantly called her, inter
posed with a very pregnant question.
"Uncle Tiff, where is the land of Canaan? "
"De Lord-a-mercy, chile, dat ar s what I d like to know
myself. "
"Is it heaven? " said Fanny.
"Well, I reckon so," said Tiff dubiously.
"Is it where ma is gone? " said Fanny.
"Chile, I reckon it is," said Tiff.
"Is it down under ground? " said Fanny.
"Why, no! ho! ho! honey!" said Tiff, laughing heart
ily. "What put dat ar in your head, Miss Fanny ? "
" Did n t ma go that way ? " said Fanny ; " down through
the ground ? "
"Lordy, no, chile! Heaven sup!" said Tiff, pointing
up to the intense blue sky which appeared through the
fringy hollows of the pine-trees above them.
"Is there any stairs anywhere? or any ladder to get up
by ? " said Fanny. "Or do they walk to where the sky
touches the ground, and get up ? Perhaps they climb up
on the rainbow."
"I don know, chile, how dey works it," said Uncle
Tiff. "Dey gets dar somehow. I s studdin upon dat
ar. I s gwine to camp-meeting to find out. I s been to
plenty of dem ar, and I never could quite see clar. Pears
like dey talks about everything else more n dey does about
dat. Dere s de Methodists, dey cuts up de Presbyter ans;
and de Presbyter ans pitches into de Methodists; and den,
both on em s down on de Piscopals. My ole mist was
Piscopal, and I never seed no harm in t. And de Bap
tists think dey ain t none on em right; and while dey s
TIFF S PREPAEATIONS 285
all a-blowing out at each other, dat ar way, I a a wonder
ing whar s de way to Canaan. It takes a mighty heap o
laming to know about dese yer things, and I ain t got no
laming. I don know nothing, only de Lord, He peared
to your ma, and He knows de way, and He took her.
But now, chile, I s gwine to fix you up right smart, and
take you, Teddy, and de baby to dis yer camp-meeting,
so you can seek de Lord in yer youth."
"Tiff, if you please, I d rather not go!" said Fanny
in an apprehensive tone.
"Oh, bress de Lord, Miss Fanny, why not? Fustrate
times dere."
"There 11 be too many people. I don t want them to
see us."
The fact was, that Kose s slant speech about Tiff s
maternal relationship, united with the sneers of Old Hun
dred, had their effect upon Fanny s mind. Naturally
proud, and fearful of ridicule, she shrank from the public
display which would thus be made of their family condi
tion; yet she would not for the world have betrayed to her
kind old friend the real reason of her hesitation. But Old
Tiff s keen eye had noticed the expression of the child s
countenance at the time. If anybody supposes that the
faithful old creature s heart was at all wounded by the
perception, he is greatly mistaken.
To Tiff it appeared a joke of the very richest quality;
and as he rode along in silence for some time, he indulged
himself in one of his quiet, long laughs, actually shaking
his old sides till the tears streamed down his cheeks.
"What s the matter with you, Tiff?" said Fanny.
" Oh, Miss Fanny, Tiff knows ! Tiff knows de reason
ye don t want to go to camp-meeting. Tiff s seen it in
yer face ye ho! ho! ho! Miss Fanny, is you fraid
dey 11 take Old Tiff for yer mammy ? ye ho ! ho ! ho !
for yer mammy? and Teddy s, and de baby s?
286 DEED
bless his little soul ! " And the amphibious old creature
rollicked over the idea with infinite merriment. "Don t
I look like it, Miss Fanny? Lord, ye por dear lamb,
can t folks see ye s a born lady, with yer white, little
hands? Don t ye be feard, Miss Fanny!"
"I know it s silly," said Fanny; "but, beside, I don t
like to be called poor ivliite folksy ! "
"Oh, chile, it s only dem mean niggers! Miss Nina s
allers good to ye, ain t she? Speaks to ye so handsome.
Ye must memorize dat ar, Miss Fanny, and talk like Miss
Nina. I s feard, now yer ma s dead, ye 11 fall into some
o my nigger ways of talking. Member you mustn t talk
like Old Tiff, cause young ladies and gen lemen mustn t
talk like niggers. Now I says * dis and dat, dis yer and
dat ar. Dat ar is nigger talk, and poor white folksy, too.
Only de por white folks, dey s mis able, cause niggers
knows what s good talk, but dey does n t. Lord, chile,
Old Tiff knows what good talk is. Ain t he heard de
greatest ladies and gen lemen in de land talk? But he
don t want de trouble to talk dat ar way, cause he s a
nigger! Tiff likes his own talk it s good enough for
Tiff. Tiff s talk sarves him mighty well, I tell yer. But
den, white children mustn t talk so. Now, you see, Miss
Nina has got de prettiest way of saying her words. Dey
drops out one after another, one after another, so pretty!
Now, you mind, cause she s coming to see us off and on
she promised so. And den, you keep a good lookout
how she walks, and how she holds her pocket-handker
chief. And when she sits down she kind o gives a little
flirt to her clothes, so dey all set out round her like ruffles.
Dese yer little ways ladies have! Why, dese yer por
white folks, did yer ever mind der settin down ? Why,
dey jist slaps down into a chair like a spoonful o mush,
and der clothes all stick tight about em. I don t want
nothing poor white folksy bout you. Den, if you don t
TIFF S PREPARATIONS 287
understand what people s a-saying to you, any time, you
mustn t star, like poor white chil en, and say, what?
but you must say I beg pardon, sir, or, I beg pardon,
ma am. Dat ar s de way. And, Miss Fanny, you and
Teddy, you must study yer book; cause, if you can t
read, den dey 11 be sure to say yer poor white folks. And
den, Miss Fanny, you see dat ladies don t demean dem-
selves with sweeping and scrubbing, and dem tings; and
yet dey does work, honey ! Dey sews, and dey knits ; and
it would be good for you to larn how to sew and knit;
cause, you know, I can t allers make up all de clothes;
cause, you see, young ladies haves ways wid em dat
niggers can t get. Now, you see, Miss Fanny, all dese
yer tings I was telling you, you must bserve. Now, you
see, if you was one of dese yer poor white folks, dere be
no use of your trying; cause dat ar scription o people
couldn t never be ladies, if dey was waring themselves out
a-trying. But you see, you s got it in you; you was born
to it, honey. It s in de blood; and what s in de blood
must come out ho ! ho ! ho ! " And with this final
laugh, Tiff drew up to his dwelling.
A busy day was before Old Tiff; for he was to set his
house in order for a week s campaign. There was his corn
to be hoed, his parsley to be weeded ; there was his orphan
family of young partridges to be cared for. And Tiff,
after some considerable consideration, resolved to take
them along with him in a basket; thinking, in the inter
vals of devotion, he should have an abundant opportunity
to minister to their wants, and superintend their education.
Then he went to one of his favorite springes, and brought
from thence, not a fatted calf, to be sure, but a fatted
coon, which he intended to take with him, to serve as the
basis of a savory stew on the camp-ground. Tiff had a
thriving company of pot-herbs, and a flourishing young
colony of onions; so that, whatever might be true of the
288 DEED
sermons, it was evident that the stew would lack no savor.
Teddy s clothes, also, were to be passed in review; wash
ing and ironing to be done; the baby fitted up to do honor
to his name, or rather to the name of his grandfather.
With all these cares upon his mind, the old creature was
even more than usually alert. The day was warm, and
he resolved, therefore, to perform his washing operations
in the magnificent kitchen of nature. He accordingly
kindled a splendid bonfire, which was soon crackling at a
short distance from the house, slung over it his kettle, and
proceeded to some other necessary avocations. The pine
wood, which had been imperfectly seasoned, served him
the ungracious trick that pine wood is apt to do : it crackled
and roared merrily while he was present, but while he was
down examining his traps in the woods went entirely out,
leaving only the blackened sticks.
"Uncle Tiff," said Teddy, "the fire is all gone out!"
"Ho! ho! ho! Has it?" said Tiff, coming up.
"Gurus enough! Well, bress de Lord, got all de wood
left, anyway; had a real bright fire, beside," said Tiff,
intent on upholding the sunniest side of things. "Lord,
it s de sun dat puts de fire out o countenance. Did you
ever see fire dat wouldn t go out when de sun s shining
right in its face? Dat ar is a curus fact. I s minded it
heaps o times. Well, I 11 jist have to come out wid my
light- wood kindlings, dat s all. Bress de Lord, ho! ho!
ho!" said Tiff, laughing to himself "if dese yer ain t the
very sp rit of de camp-meeting professors! Dey blazes
away at de camp-meeting, and den dey s black all de year
round! See em at de camp-meetings, you d say dey war
gwine right into de kingdom, sure enough! Well, Lord
have marcy on us all! Our ligion s drefful poor stuff!
We don t know . but a despert leetle, and what we does
know we don do. De good Mas r above must have his
hands full with us ! "
CHAPTER XXII
THE WORSHIPERS
THE camp-meeting is one leading feature in the Ameri
can development of religion, peculiarly suited to the wide
extent of country, and to the primitive habits which gen
erally accompany a sparse population. Undoubtedly its
general effects have been salutary. Its evils have been
only those incident to any large gatherings, in which the
whole population of a country are brought promiscuously
together. As in many other large assemblies of worship,
there are those who go for all sorts of reasons; some from
curiosity, some from love of excitement, some to turn a
penny in a small way of trade, some to scoff, and a few to
pray. And so long as the heavenly way remains straight
and narrow, so long the sincere and humble worshipers
will ever be the minority in all assemblies. We can give
no better idea of the difference of motive which impelled
the various worshipers, than by taking our readers from
scene to scene, on the morning when different attendants of
the meeting were making preparations to start.
Between the grounds of Mr. John Gordon and the plan
tation of Canema stood a log cabin, which was the trading
establishment of Abijah Skinflint. The establishment was
a nuisance in the eyes of the neighboring planters, from
the general apprehension entertained that Abijah drove a
brisk underhand trade with the negroes, and that the vari
ous articles which he disposed for sale were many of them
surreptitiously conveyed to him in nightly installments
VOL. I.
290 DEED
from off their own plantations. But of this nothing could
be proved.
Abijah was a shrewd fellow, long, dry, lean, leathery,
with a sharp nose, sharp, little, gray eyes, a sharp chin,
and fingers as long as bird s claws. His skin was so dry
that one would have expected that his cheeks would crackle
whenever he smiled or spoke; and he rolled in them a
never-failing quid of tobacco.
Abijah was one of those over - shrewd Yankees who
leave their country for their country s good, and who ex
hibit, wherever they settle, such a caricature of the thrifty
virtue of their native land as to justify the aversion which
the native-born Southerner entertains for the Yankee. Abi
jah drank his own whiskey, prudently, however, or,
as he said, "never so as not to know what he was about."
He had taken a wife from the daughters of the land,
who also drank whiskey, but less prudently than her hus
band, so that sometimes she did not know what she was
about. Sons and daughters were born unto this promising
couple, white-headed, forward, dirty, and ill mannered.
But amid all domestic and social trials, Abijah maintained
a constant and steady devotion to the main chance the
acquisition of money. For money he would do anything;
for money he would have sold his wife, his children, even
his own soul, if he had happened to have one. But that
article, had it ever existed, was now so small and dry,
that one might have fancied it to rattle in his lean frame
like a shriveled pea in a last year s peascod. Abijah was
going to the camp-meeting for two reasons. One, of
course, was to make money; and the other was to know
whether his favorite preacher, Elder Stringfellow, handled
the doctrine of election according to his views; for Abijah
had a turn for theology, and could number off the five
points of Calvinism on his five long fingers with unfailing
accuracy.
THE WORSHIPERS 291
It is stated in the Scriptures that the devils believe and
tremble. The principal difference between their belief and
Abijah s was, that he believed and did not tremble.
Truths awful enough to have shaken the earth and veiled
the sun, he could finger over with as much unconcern as a
practiced anatomist the dry bones of a skeleton.
"You, Sam!" said Abijah to his only negro helot,
"you mind, you steady that ar bar l, so that it don t roll
out, and pour a pailful of water in at the bung. It won t
do to give it to em too strong. Mis Skinflint, you make
haste! If you don t, I sha n t wait for you; cause, what
ever the rest may do, it s important I should be on the
ground early. Many a dollar lost for not being in time,
in this world. Hurry, woman ! "
"I am ready, but Polly ain t!" said Mrs. Skinflint.
"She s busy a-plastering down her hair."
"Can t wait for her!" said Abijah, as he sallied out of
the house to get into the wagon, which stood before the
door, into which he had packed a copious supply of hams,
eggs, dressed chickens, corn-meal, and green summer vege
tables, to say nothing of the barrel of whiskey aforesaid.
"I say, dad, you stop! " called Polly, from the window.
"If you don t, I ll make work for you fore you come
home; you see if I don t! Durned if I won t! "
"Come along, then, can t you? Next time we go any
where, I 11 shut you up overnight to begin to dress! "
Polly hastily squeezed her fat form into a red calico
dress, and seizing a gay summer shawl, with her bonnet
in her hand, rushed to the wagon and mounted, the hooks
of her dress successively exploding, and flying off, as she
stooped to get in.
"Durned if I knows what to do!" said she; "this yer
old durned gear coat s all off my back! "
"Gals is always fools! " said Abijah consolingly.
"Stick in a pin, Polly," said her mother in an easy,
sing-song drawl.
292 DEED
"Durn you, old woman, every hook is off!" said the
promising young lady.
"Stick in more pins, then," said the mamma; and the
vehicle of Abijah passed onward.
On the verge of the swamp, a little beyond Tiff s cabin,
lived Ben Dakin.
Ben was a mighty hunter; he had the best pack of dogs
within thirty miles round; and his advertisements, still to
be seen standing in the papers of his native state, detailed
with great accuracy the precise terms on which he would
hunt down and capture any man, woman, or child, escap
ing from service and labor in that country. Our readers
must not necessarily suppose Ben to have been a monster
for all this, when they recollect that, within a few years,
both the great political parties of our Union solemnly
pledged themselves, as far as in them lay, to accept a simi
lar vocation; and as many of them were in good and
regular standing in churches, and had ministers to preach
sermons to the same effect, we trust they 11 entertain no
unreasonable prejudice against Ben on this account.
In fact, Ben was a tall, broad-shouldered, bluff, hearty-
looking fellow, who would do a kind turn for a neighbor
with as much good will as anybody; and except that he
now and then took a little too much whiskey, as he him
self admitted, he considered himself quite as promising a
candidate for the kingdom as any of the company who were
going up to camp-meeting. Had any one ventured to
remonstrate with Ben against the nature of his profession,
he would probably have defended it by pretty much the
same arguments by which modern theologians defend the
institution of which it is a branch.
Ben was just one of those jovial fellows who never could
bear to be left behind in anything that was going on in the
community, and was always one of the foremost in a camp-
meeting. He had a big, loud voice, and could roll out the
THE WORSHIPERS 293
chorus of hymns with astonishing effect. He was gener
ally converted at every gathering of this kind; though
through the melancholy proclivity to whiskey, before
alluded to, he usually fell from grace before the year was
out. Like many other big and hearty men, he had a
little, pale, withered moonshiny wisp of a wife, who hung
on his elbow much like an empty work-bag; and Ben, to
do him justice, was kind to the wilted little mortal, as if
he almost suspected that he had absorbed her vitality into
his own exuberant growth. She was greatly given to
eating clay, cleaning her teeth with snuff, and singing
Methodist hymns, and had a very sincere concern for Ben s
salvation. The little woman sat resignedly on the morn
ing we speak of, while a long-limbed, broad-shouldered
child, of two years, with bristly white hair, was pulling
her by her ears and hair, and otherwise maltreating her,
to make her get up to give him a piece of bread and
molasses; and she, without seeming to attend to the child,
was giving earnest heed to her husband.
"There s a despit press of business now!" said Ben.
"There s James s niggers, and Smith s Polly, and we
ought to be on the trail, right away ! "
" Oh, Ben, you ought to tend to your salvation afore
anything else ! " said his wife.
"That s true enough!" said Ben; "meetings don t
come every day. But what are we to do with dis yer uri ? "
pointing to the door of an inner room.
"Dis yer un " was no other than a negro woman, named
Nance, who had been brought in by the dogs, the day
before.
"Laws!" said his wife, "we can set her something to
eat, and leave the dogs in front of the door. She can t
get out."
Ben threw open the door, and displayed to view a low
kind of hutch, without any other light than that between
294 DRED
the crevices of the logs. On the floor, which was of hard-
trodden earth, sat a sinewy, lean negro woman, drawing
up her knees with her long arms, and resting her chin
upon them.
"Hollo, Nance, how are you?" said Ben, rather cheer-
iiy-
"Po rly, mas r," said the other in a sullen tone.
"Nance, you think your old man will whale you, when
he gets you 1 " said Ben.
"I reckons he will," said Nance; "he allers does."
"Well, Nance, the old woman and I want to go to a
camp-meeting; and I ll just tell you what it is, you
stay here quiet, while we are gone, and I 11 make the old
fellow promise not to wallop you. I would n t mind tak
ing off something of the price that s fair, ain t it? "
"Yes, mas r!" said the woman in the same subdued
tone.
" Does your foot hurt you much 1 " said Ben.
"Yes, mas r!" said the woman.
"Let me look at it," said Ben.
The woman put out one foot, which had been loosely
bound up in old rags, now saturated in blood.
"I declar, if that ar dog ain t a pealer!" said Ben.
"Nance, you ought ter have stood still; then he wouldn t
have hurt you so."
"Lord, he hurt me so I couldn t stand still!" said the
woman. "It ain t natur to stand still with a critter s
teeth in yer foot."
"Well, I don t know as it is," said Ben good naturedly.
"Here, Mis Dakin, you bind up this here gal s foot.
Stop your noise, sir-ee ! " he added, to the young aspirant
for bread and molasses, who, having dispatched one piece,
was clamoring vigorously for another.
"I ll tell you what!" said Ben to his wife, "I am
going to talk to that ar old Elder Settle. I runs more
THE WORSHIPERS 295
niggers for him than any man in the county, and I know
there s some reason for it. Niggers don t run into swamps
when they s treated well. Folks that professes religion,
I think, oughtn t to starve their niggers, noway! "
Soon the vehicle of Ben was also on the road. He
gathered up the reins vigorously, threw back his head to
get the full benefit of his lungs, and commenced a vehe
ment camp-meeting melody, to the tune of
"Am I a soldier of the cross,
A follower of the Lamb ? "
A hymn, by the bye, which was one of Ben s particular
favorites.
We come next, to Tiff s cottage, of which the inmates
were astir, in the coolness of the morning, bright and
early. Tiff s wagon was a singular composite article, prin
cipally of his own construction. The body of it consisted
of a long packing-box. The wheels were all odd ones,
that had been brought home at different times by Cripps.
The shafts were hickory-poles, thinned at one end, and
fastened to the wagon by nails. Some barrel-hoops bent
over the top, covered by coarse white cotton cloth, formed
the curtains, and a quantity of loose straw dispersed inside
was the only seat. The lean, one-eyed horse was secured
to this vehicle by a harness made of old ropes; but no
millionaire, however, ever enjoyed his luxuriantly cush
ioned coach with half the relish with which Tiff enjoyed
his equipage. It was the work of his hands, the darling
of his heart, the delight of his eyes. To be sure, like
other mortal darlings, it was to be admitted that it had its
weak points and failings. The wheels would now and
then come off, the shafts get loose, or the harness break;
but Tiff was always prepared, and on occasion of any such
mishaps would jump out and attend to them with such
cheerful alacrity, that, if anything, he rather seemed to
love it better for the accident. There it stands now,
296 DEED
before the inclosure of the little cabin; and Tiff and
Fanny and Teddy, with bustling assiduity, are packing
and arranging it. The gum-tree cradle -trough took prece
dence of all other articles. Tiff, by the private advice of
Aunt Rose, had just added to this an improvement, which
placed it, in his view, tip-top among cradles. He had
nailed to one end of it a long splint of elastic hickory,
which drooped just over the baby s face. From this was
suspended a morsel of salt pork, which this young scion of
a noble race sucked with a considerate relish, while his
large, round eyes opened and shut with sleepy satisfaction.
This arrangement Rose had recommended, in mysterious
tones, as all powerful in making sucking babies forget
their mammies, whom otherwise they might pine for in a
manner prejudicial to their health.
Although the day was sultry, Tiff was arrayed in his
long-skirted white greatcoat, as his nether garments were
in too dilapidated a state to consist with the honor of the
family. His white felt hat still bore the band of black
crape.
"It s a mazin good day, bless de Lord!" said Tiff.
" Pears like dese yer birds would split der troats, praising
de Lord! It s a mighty good zample to us, anyway.
You see, Miss Fanny, you never see birds put out, nor
snarly like, rain or shine. Dey s allers a- praising de
Lord. Lord, it seems as if critters is better dan we be ! "
And as Tiff spoke, he shouldered into the wagon a mighty
bag of corn; but failing in what he meant to do, the bag
slid over the side, and tumbled back into the road. Being
somewhat of the oldest, the fall burst it asunder, and the
corn rolled into the sand, with that provoking alacrity
which things always have when they go the wrong way.
Fanny and Teddy both uttered an exclamation of lamenta
tion; but Tiff held on to his sides and laughed till the
tears rolled down his cheeks.
THE WORSHIPERS 297
"He! he! he! ho! ho! ho! Why, dat ar is de last
bag we s got, and dar s all de corn a- running out in de
sand! Ho! ho! ho! Lord, it s so curus! "
" Why, what are you going to do 1 " said Fanny.
"Oh, bress you, Miss Fanny," said Tiff, "I s bound to
do something, anyhow. Clare for it, now, if I hain t got
a box ! " And Tiff soon returned with the article in ques
tion, which proved too large for the wagon. The corn,
however, was emptied into it pro tern., and Tiff, producing
his darning-needle and thimble, sat down seriously to the
task of stitching up the hole.
"De Lord s things ain t never in a hurry," said Tiff.
"Corn and tatoes will have der time, and why shouldn t
I? Dar," he said, after having mended the bag and re
placed the corn, "dat ar s better now nor twas before."
Besides his own store of provisions, Tiff prudently laid
into his wagon enough of garden stuff to turn a penny for
Miss Fanny and the children, on the camp-ground. His
commissariat department, in fact, might have provoked
appetite, even among the fastidious. There were dressed
chickens and rabbits, the coon aforesaid, bundles of savory
herbs, crisp, dewy lettuce, bunches of onions, radishes, and
green peas.
"Tell ye what, chil en," said Tiff, "we ll live like
princes ! And you mind, order me round well. Let folks
har ye; cause what s de use of having a nigger, and
nobody knowing it 1 "
And everything being arranged, Tiff got in, and jogged
comfortably along. At the turn of the cross-road, Tiff,
looking a little behind, saw, on the other road, the Gordon
carriage coming, driven by Old Hundred, arrayed in his
very best ruffled shirt, white gloves, and gold hat-band.
If ever Tiff came near having a pang in his heart, it
was at that moment; but he retreated stoutly upon the
idea that, however appearances might be against them, his
298 DEED
family was no less ancient and honorable for that; and,
therefore, putting on all his dignity, he gave his beast an
extra cut, as who should say, "I don t care."
But as ill luck would have it, the horse, at this instant,
giving a jerk, wrenched out the nails that fastened the
shaft on one side, and it fell, trailing dishonored on the
ground. The rope harness pulled all awry, and just at
this moment the Gordon carriage swept up.
"Tore I d drive sich old trash!" said Old Hundred
scornfully; "pulls all to pieces every step! If dat ar ain t
a poor white folksy stablishment, I never seed one! "
"What s the matter?" said Nina, putting her head
out. "Oh, Tiff! good-morning, my good fellow. Can
we help you, there 1 John, get down and help him. "
"Please, Miss Nina, de bosses is so full o tickle, dis yer
mornin , I couldn t let go, noways! " said Old Hundred.
" Oh, laws bless you, Miss Nina," said Tiff, restored to his
usual spirits, " t ain t no thin . Broke in a strordinary good
place dis yer time. I ken hammer it up in a minute."
And Tiff was as good as his word; for a round stone
and big nail made all straight.
"Pray," said Nina, "how are little Miss Fanny, and
the children 1 "
Miss Fanny ! If Nina had heaped Tiff with presents,
she could not have conferred the inexpressible obligation
conveyed in these words. He bowed low to the ground,
with the weight of satisfaction, and answered that "Miss
Fanny and the chil en were well."
"There," said Nina, "John, you may drive on. Do
you know, friends, I ve set Tiff up for six weeks, by one
word? Just saying Miss Fanny has done more for him
than if I d sent him six bushels of potatoes."
We have yet to take our readers to one more scene before
we finish the review of those who were going to the camp-
THE WORSHIPERS 299
meeting. The reader must follow us far beyond the abodes
of man, into the recesses of that wild desolation known as
the "Dismal Swamp." We pass over vast tracts where
the forest seems growing out of the water. Cypress, red
cedar, sweet-gum, tulip, poplar, beech, and holly form a
goodly fellowship, waving their rustling boughs above.
The trees shoot up in vast columns, fifty, seventy-five, and
a hundred feet in height; and below are clusters of ever
green gall-bushes, with their thick and glossy foliage,
mingled in with swamp honeysuckles, grapevines, twining
brier, and laurels, and other shrubs, forming an impene
trable thicket. The creeping plants sometimes climb sev
enty or eighty feet up the largest tree, and hang in heavy
festoons from their branches. It would seem impossible
that human foot could penetrate the wild, impervious
jungle; but we must take our readers through it, to a
cleared spot, where trunks of fallen trees, long decayed,
have formed an island of vegetable mould, which the art
of some human hand has extended and improved. The
clearing is some sixty yards long by thirty broad, and is
surrounded with a natural rampart, which might well bid
defiance to man or beast. Huge trees have been felled,
with all their branches lying thickly one over another, in
a circuit around; and nature, seconding the efforts of the
fugitives who sought refuge here, has interlaced the frame
work thus made with thorny cat-briers, cables of grape
vine, and thickets of Virginia creeper, which, running wild
in their exuberance, climb on to the neighboring trees,
and swinging down, again lose themselves in the mazes
from which they spring, so as often to form a verdurous
wall fifty feet in height. In some places the laurel, with
its glossy green leaves, and its masses of pink-tipped snowy
blossoms, presents to the eye, rank above rank, a wilder
ness of beauty. The pendants of the yellow jessamine
swing to and fro in the air like censers, casting forth clouds
300 DEED
of perfume. A thousand twining vines, with flowers of
untold name, perhaps unknown as yet to the botanist, help
to fill up the mosaic. The leafy ramparts sweep round on
all the sides of the clearing, for the utmost care has been
taken to make it impenetrable ; and in that region of heat
and moisture, nature, in the course of a few weeks, admi
rably seconds every human effort. The only egress from
it is a winding path cut through with a hatchet, which can
be entered by only one person at a time; and the water
which surrounds this island entirely cuts off the trail from
the scent of dogs. It is to be remarked that the climate,
in the interior of the swamp, is far from being unhealthy.
Lumbermen, who spend great portions of the year in it,
cutting shingles and staves, testify to the general salubrity
of the air and water. The opinion prevails among them
that the quantity of pine and other resinous trees that
grow there impart a balsamic property to the water, and
impregnate the air with a healthy, resinous fragrance,
which causes it to be an exception to the usual rule of the
unhealthiness of swampy land. The soil also, when
drained sufficiently for purposes of culture, is profusely
fertile. Two small cabins stood around the border of the
clearing, but the centre was occupied with patches of corn
and sweet potatoes, planted there to secure as much as
possible the advantage of sun and air.
At the time we take our readers there, the afternoon
sun of a sultry June day is casting its long shadows over
the place, and a whole choir of birds is echoing in the
branches. On the ground, in front of one of the cabins,
lies a negro man, covered with blood; two women, with
some little children, are grouped beside him; and a wild
figure, whom we at once recognize as Dred, is kneeling by
him, busy in efforts to stanch a desperate wound in the
neck. In vain ! The red blood spurts out at every pulsa
tion of the heart, with a fearful regularity, telling too
THE WORSHIPERS 301
plainly that it is a great life-artery which has been laid
open. The negro woman, kneeling on the other side, is
anxiously holding some bandages, which she has stripped
from a portion of her raiment.
"Oh, put these on, quick do!"
"It J s no use," said Dred; "he is going! "
"Oh, do! don t, don t let him go! Can t you save
him ? " said the woman in tones of agony.
The wounded man s eyes opened, and first fixed them
selves, with a vacant stare, on the blue sky above ; then,
turning on the woman, he seemed to try to speak. He
had had a strong arm; he tries to raise it, but the blood
wells up with the effort, the eye glazes, the large frame
shivers for a few moments, and then all is still. The blood
stops flowing now, for the heart has stopped beating, and
an immortal soul has gone back to Him who gave it.
The man was a fugitive from a neighboring plantation
a simple-hearted, honest fellow, who had fled, with his
wife and children, to save her from the licentious persecu
tion of the overseer. Dred had received and sheltered
him; had built him a cabin, and protected him for months.
A provision of the Revised Statutes of North Carolina
enacts that slaves thus secreted in the swamps, not return
ing within a given time, shall be considered outlawed; and
that "it shall be lawful for any person or persons whatso
ever to kill and destroy such slaves, by such ways and
means as they shall think fit, without any accusation or
impeachment of crime for the same." It also provides
that, when any slave shall be killed in consequence of such
outlawry, the value of such slave shall be ascertained by
a jury, and the owner entitled to receive two thirds of the
valuation from the sheriff of the county wherein the slave
was killed.
In olden times, the statute provided that the proclama
tion of outlawry should be published on a Sabbath day, at
302 DEED
the door of any church or chapel, or place where divine
service should he performed, immediately after divine ser
vice, hy the parish clerk or reader. In the spirit of this
permission, a party of negro-hunters, with dogs and guns,
had chased this man, who, on this day, had unfortunately
ventured out of his concealment. He succeeded in outrun
ning all hut one dog, which sprang up, and fastening his
fangs in his throat, laid him prostrate within a few paces
of his retreat. Dred came up in time to kill the dog, hut
the wound, as appeared, had proved a mortal one.
As soon as the wife perceived that her husband was
really dead, she broke into a loud wail. "Oh, dear, he s
gone ! and t was all for me he did it ! Oh, he was so good,
such a good man ! Oh, do tell me, is he dead, is he ? "
Dred lifted the yet warm hand in his a moment, and
then dropped it heavily. " Dead ! " he said, in a deep
undertone of suppressed emotion. Suddenly kneeling
down beside him, he lifted his hands, and broke forth
with wild vehemence: "0 Lord God, to whom vengeance
belongeth, show thyself! Lift up thyself, thou Judge of
the earth, render a reward to the proud ! Doubtless thou
art our Father, though Abraham be ignorant of us, and
Israel acknowledge us not. Thou, Lord, art our Father,
our Eedeemer; thy ways are everlasting where is thy
zeal and thy strength, and the sounding of thy bowels
towards us ? Are they restrained ? " Then, tossing his
hands to heaven, with a yet wilder gesture, he almost
screamed: "0 Lord! Lord! how long? Oh, that thou
wouldst rend the heavens and come down! Oh, let the
sighings of the prisoner come before thee ! Our bones are
scattered at the grave s mouth, as when one cutteth and
cleaveth wood! We are given as sheep to the slaughter!
We are killed all the day long! Lord, avenge us of our
adversaries ! "
These words were spoken with a vehement earnestness
THE WORSHIPERS 303
of gesture and voice, that hushed the lamentation of the
mourners. Rising up from his knees, he stood a moment
looking down at the lifeless form before him. "See here,"
he said, "what harm had this man done? Was he not
peaceable ? Did he not live here in quietness, tilling the
ground in the sweat of his brow? Why have they sent
the hunters upon him? Because he wanted to raise his
corn for himself, and not for another. Because he wanted
his wife for himself, and not for another. Was not the
worldwide enough? Isn t there room enough under the
sky ? Because this man wished to eat the fruit of his own
labor, the decree went forth against him, even the curse of
Cain, so that whosoever findeth him shall kill him. Will
not the Lord be avenged on such a people as this? To
night they will hold their solemn assembly, and blow the
trumpet in their new moon, and the prophets will prophesy
falsely, and the priests will speak wickedly concerning
oppression. The word of the Lord saith unto me, Go
unto this people, and break before them the staff beauty
and the staff bands, and be a sign unto this people of the
terror of the Lord. Behold, saith the Lord, therefore have
I raised thee up and led thee through the wilderness,
through the desolate places of the land not sown. "
As Dred spoke, his great black eye seemed to enlarge
itself and roll with a glassy fullness, like that of a sleep
walker in a somnambulic dream. His wife, seeing him
prepare to depart, threw herself upon him.
"Oh, don t, don t leave us! You 11 be killed, some of
these times, just as they killed him ! "
"Woman! the burden of the Lord is upon me. The
word of the Lord is as a fire shut up in my bones. The
Lord saith unto me, Go show unto this people their in
iquity, and be a sign unto this evil nation ! "
Breaking away from his wife, he precipitated himself
through an opening into the thicket, and was gone.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE CAMP-MEETING
THE place selected for the camp-meeting was in one of
the most picturesque portions of the neighborhood. It
was a small, partially cleared spot, in the midst of a dense
forest, which stretched away in every direction, in cool,
green aisles of checkered light and shade. In the central
clearing, a sort of rude amphitheatre of seats was formed
of rough pine slahs. Around on the edges of the forest
the tents of the various worshipers were pitched; for the
spending of three or four days and nights upon the ground
is deemed an essential part of the service. The same clear
stream which wound round the dwelling of Tiff prattled its
way, with a modest gurgle, through this forest, and fur
nished the assembly with water.
The Gordons, having come merely for the purposes of
curiosity, and having a residence in the neighborhood, did
not provide themselves with a tent. The servants, how
ever, were less easily satisfied. Aunt Rose shook her
head, and declared, oracularly, that "de blessing was sure
to come down in de night, and dem dat wanted to get a
part of it would have to be dar ! "
Consequently, Nina was beset to allow her people to
have a tent, in which they were to take turns in staying
all night, as candidates for the blessing. In compliance
with that law of good-humored indulgence which had been
the traditionary usage of her family, Nina acceded; and
the Gordon tent spread its snowy sails, to the rejoicing of
their hearts. Aunt Rose predominated about the door,
THE CAMP-MEETING 305
alternately slapping the children and joining the chorus of
hymns which she heard from every part of the camp
ground. On the outskirts were various rude booths, in
which whiskey and water, and sundry articles of provision,
and fodder for horses, were dispensed for a consideration.
Abijah Skinflint here figured among the money-changers,
while his wife and daughter were gossiping through the
tents of the women. In front of the seats, under a dense
cluster of pines, was the preacher s stand: a rude stage of
rough boards, with a railing around it, and a desk of small
slabs, supporting a Bible and a hymn-book.
The preachers were already assembling; and no small
curiosity was expressed with regard to them by the people,
who were walking up and down among the tents. Nina,
leaning on the arm of Clayton, walked about the area with
the rest. Anne Clayton leaned on the arm of Uncle John.
Aunt Nesbit and Aunt Maria came behind. To Nina the
scene was quite new, for a long residence in the northern
states had placed her out of the way of such things; and
her shrewd insight into character, and her love of drollery,
found an abundant satisfaction in the various little points
and oddities of the scene. They walked to the Gordon
tent, in which a preliminary meeting was already in full
course. A circle of men and women, interspersed with
children, were sitting, with their eyes shut, and their
heads thrown back, singing at the top of their voices.
Occasionally, one or other would vary the exercises by
clapping of hands, jumping up straight into the air, falling
flat on the ground, screaming, dancing, and laughing.
" Oh, set me up on a rock ! " screamed one.
"I s sot up! " screamed another.
"Glory!" cried the third, and a tempest of "amens"
poured in between.
"I s got a sperience!" cried one, and forthwith began
piping it out in a high key, while others kept on singing.
VOL. i.
306 DEED
"I s got a sperience!" shouted Tomtit, whom Aunt
Rose, with maternal care, had taken with her.
"No, you ain t neither! Sit down!" said Aunt Rose,
kneading him down as if he had been a batch of biscuits,
and going on at the same time with her hymn.
"I s on the Rock of Ages! " screamed a neighbor.
" I want to get on a rock edgeways ! " screamed Tomtit,
struggling desperately with Aunt Rose s great fat hands.
"Mind yourself! I ll crack you over!" said Aunt
Rose. And Tomtit, still continuing rebellious, ivas
cracked over accordingly, with such force as to send him
head-foremost on the straw at the bottom of the tent; an
indignity which he resented with loud howls of impotent
wrath, which, however, made no impression in the general
whirlwind of screaming, shouting, and praying.
Nina and Uncle John stood at the tent-door laughing
heartily. Clayton looked on with his usual thoughtful
gravity of aspect. Anne turned her head away with an
air of disgust.
"Why don t you laugh?" said Nina, looking round at
her.
"It doesn t make me feel like it," said Anne. "It
makes me feel melancholy."
"Why so?"
"Because religion is a sacred thing with me, and I don t
like to see it travestied," said she.
"Oh," said Nina, "I don t respect religion any the less
for a good laugh at its oddities. I believe I was born
without any organ of reverence, and so don t feel the in
congruity of the thing as you do. The distance between
laughing and praying is n t so very wide in my mind as it
is in some people s."
"We must have charity," said Clayton, "for every reli
gious manifestation. Barbarous and half-civilized people
always find the necessity for outward and bodily demon-
THE CAMP-MEETING 307
stration in worship; I suppose because the nervous excite
ment wakes up and animates their spiritual natures, and
gets them into a receptive state, just as you have to shake
up sleeping persons and shout in their ears to put them in
a condition to understand you. I have known real conver
sions to take place under just these excitements."
"But," said Anne, "I think we might teach them to
be decent. These things ought not to be allowed ! "
"I believe," said Clayton, "intolerance is a rooted vice
in our nature. The world is as full of different minds and
bodies as the woods are of leaves, and each one has its own
habit of growth. And yet our first impulse is to forbid
everything that would not be proper for us. No, let the
African scream, dance, and shout, and fall in trances. It
suits his tropical lineage and blood as much as our thought
ful inward ways do us."
"I wonder who that is! " said Nina, as a general move
ment on the ground proclaimed the arrival of some one
who appeared to be exciting general interest. The stranger
was an unusually tall, portly man, apparently somewhat
past the middle of life, whose erect carriage, full figure,
and red cheeks, and a certain dashing frankness of manner,
might have indicated him as belonging rather to the mili
tary than the clerical profession. He carried a rifle on his
shoulder, which he set down carefully against the corner of
the preacher s stand, and went around shaking hands
among the company with a free and jovial air that might
almost be described by the term rollicking.
"Why," said Uncle John, "that s Father Bonnie!
How are you, my fine fellow ? "
"What! you, Mr. Gordon? How do you do?" said
Father Bonnie, grasping his hand in his, and shaking it
heartily. "Why, they tell me," he said, looking at him
with a jovial smile, " that you have fallen from grace ! "
"Even so!" said Uncle John. "I am a sad dog, I
dare say."
308 DEED
"Oh, I tell you what," said Father Bonnie, "but it
takes a strong hook and a long line to pull in you rich
sinners! Your money-bags and your niggers hang round
you like millstones! You are too tough for the gospel!
Ah! " said he, shaking his fist at him playfully, "but I m
going to come down upon you, to-day, with the law, I can
tell you! You want the thunders of Sinai! You must
have a dose of the law ! "
"Well," said Uncle John, "thunder away! I suppose
we need it, all of us. But now, Father Bonnie, you
ministers are always preaching to us poor dogs on the evils
of riches; but, somehow, I don t see any of you that are
much afraid of owning horses, or niggers, or any other
good thing that you can get your hands on. Now, I hear
that you ve got a pretty snug little place, and a likely
drove to work it. You 11 have to look out for your own
soul, Father Bonnie ! "
A general laugh echoed this retort; for Father Bonnie
had the reputation of being a shrewder hand at a bargain,
and of having more expertness in swapping a horse or
trading a negro, than any other man for six counties round.
"He s into you, now, old man!" said several of the
bystanders laughingly.
"Oh, as to that," said Father Bonnie, laughing, also,
"I go in with Paul, they that preach the gospel must
live of the gospel. Now, Paul was a man that stood up
for his rights to live as other folks do. Is n t it right,
says he, that those that plant a vineyard should first eat
of the fruit? Haven t we power to lead about a sister, a
wife ? says he. And if Paul had lived in our time he
would have said a drove of niggers, too! No danger about
us ministers being hurt by riches, while you laymen are so
slow about supporting the gospel ! "
At the elbow of Father Bonnie stood a brother minister,
who was in many respects his contrast. He was tall, thin,
THE CAMP-MEETING 309
and stooping, with earnest black eyes, and a serene sweet
ness of expression. A threadbare suit of rusty black, evi
dently carefully worn, showed the poverty of his worldly
estate. He carried in his hand a small portmanteau, pro
bably containing a change of linen, his Bible, and a few
sermons. Father Dickson was a man extensively known
through all that region. He was one of those men among
the ministers of America who keep alive our faith in
Christianity, and renew on earth the portrait of the old
apostle: "In journeyings often, in weariness and painful-
ness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings
often, in cold and nakedness. Besides those things that
are without, that which cometh upon them daily, the care
of all the churches. Who is weak, and they are not weak 1
who is offended, and they burn not ? "
Every one in the state knew and respected Father Dick-
son; and like the generality of the world, people were
very well pleased, and thought it extremely proper and
meritorious for him to bear weariness and painfulness,
hunger and cold, in their spiritual service, leaving to them
the right of attending or not attending to him, according
to their own convenience. Father Dickson was one of
those who had never yielded to the common customs and
habits of the country in regard to the holding of slaves.
A few, who had been left him by a relation, he had at
great trouble and expense transported to a free state, and
settled there comfortably. The world need not trouble
itself with seeking to know or reward such men; for the
world cannot know and has no power to reward them.
Their citizenship is in heaven, and all that can be given
them in this life is like a morsel which a peasant gives in his
cottage to him who to-morrow will reign over a kingdom.
He had stood listening to the conversation thus far with
the grave yet indulgent air with which he generally listened
to the sallies of his ministerial brothers. Father Bonnie,
310 DRED
though not as much respected or confided in as Father
Dickson, had, from the frankness of his manners, and a
certain rude but effective style of eloquence, a more general
and apparent popularity. He produced more sensation on
the camp-ground; could sing louder and longer, and would
often rise into flights of eloquence both original and im
pressive. Many were offended by the freedom of his man
ner out of the pulpit; and the stricter sort were known to
have said of him, "that when out he never ought to be in,
and when in never out." As the laugh that rose at his
last sally died away, he turned to Father Dickson, and
said :
"What do you think?"
"I don t think," said Father Dickson mildly, "that you
would ever have found Paul leading a drove of negroes."
"Why not, as well as Abraham, the father of the faith
ful? Didn t he have three hundred trained servants?"
"Servants, perhaps; but not slaves!" said Father Dick-
son, "for they all bore arms. For my "part, I think that
the buying, selling, and trading of human beings, for pur
poses of gain, is a sin in the sight of God."
"Well, now, Father Dickson, I wouldn t have thought
you had read your Bible to so little purpose as that! I
wouldn t believe it! What do you say to Moses? "
"He led out a whole army of fugitive slaves through
the Bed Sea," said Father Dickson.
"Well, I tell you, now," said Father Bonnie, "if the
buying, selling, or holding of a slave for the sake of gain
is, as you say, a sin, then three fourths of all the Episco
palians, Methodists, Baptists, and Presbyterians, in the slave
states of the Union, are of the devil ! "
"I think it is a sin, notwithstanding," said Father Dick-
son quietly.
"Well, but doesn t Moses say expressly, * Ye shall buy
of the heathen round about you ? "
THE CAMP-MEETING 311
" There s into him ! " said a Georgia trader, who, hav
ing camped with a coffle of negroes in the neighborhood,
had come up to camp-meeting.
"All those things," said Father Dickson, "belong to
the old covenant, which Paul says was annulled for the
weakness and unprofitableness thereof, and have nothing
to do with us, who have risen with Christ. We have got
past Mount Sinai and the wilderness, and have come unto
Mount Zion ; and ought to seek the things that are above,
where Christ sitteth."
"I say, brother," said another of the ministers, tapping
him on the shoulder, "it s time for the preaching to
begin. You can finish your discussion some other time.
Come, Father Bonnie, come forward, here, and strike up
the hymn."
Father Bonnie accordingly stepped to the front of the
stand, and with him another minister, of equal height and
breadth of frame, and standing with their hats on, they
uplifted, in stentorian voices, the following hymn :
"Brethren don t you hear the sound ?
The martial trumpet now is blowing ;
Men in order listing round,
And soldiers to the standard flowing."
As the sound of the hymn rolled through the aisles and
arches of the wood, the heads of different groups, who had
been engaged in conversation, were observed turning
toward the stand, and voices from every part of the camp
ground took up the air, as, suiting the action to the words,
they began flowing to the place of preaching. The hymn
went on, keeping up the same martial images :
" Bounty offered, life and peace ;
To every soldier this is given,
When the toils of life shall cease,
A mansion bright, prepared in heaven."
As the throng pressed up, and came crowding from the
distant aisles of the wood, the singers seemed to exert
312 DRED
themselves to throw a wilder vehemence into the song,
stretching out their arms and beckoning eagerly. They
went on singing :
" You need not fear ; the cause is good,
Let who will to the crown aspire:
In this cause the martyrs bled,
And shouted victory in the fire.
"In this cause let s follow on,
And soon we 11 tell the pleasing story,
How by faith we won the crown,
And fought our way to life and glory.
"Oh, ye rebels, come and list !
The officers are now recruiting:
Why will you in sin persist,
Or waste your time in vain disputing ?
" All excuses now are vain ;
For, if you do not sue for favor,
Down you Ml sink to endless pain,
And bear the wrath of God forever."
There is always something awful in the voice of the
multitude. It would seem as if the breath that a crowd
breathed out together, in moments of enthusiasm, carried
with it a portion of the dread and mystery of their own
immortal natures. The whole area before the pulpit, and
in the distant aisles of the forest, became one vast, surging
sea of sound, as negroes and whites, slaves and free men,
saints and sinners, slave-holders, slave-hunters, slave-
traders, ministers, elders, and laymen, alike joined in the
pulses of that mighty song. A flood of electrical excite
ment seemed to rise with it, as, with a voice of many
waters, the rude chant went on :
" Hark ! the victors singing loud !
Emanuel s chariot wheels are rumbling;
Mourners weeping through the crowd,
And Satan s kingdom down is tumbling! "
Our friend, Ben Dakin, pressed to the stand, and with
tears streaming down his cheeks, exceeded all others in the
THE CAMP-MEETING 313
energy of his vociferations. Ben had just come from
almost a fight with another slave-hunter, who had boasted
a better- trained pack of dogs than his own ; and had broken
away to hurry to the camp-ground, with the assurance that
he d "give him fits when the preachin was over;" and
now he stood there, tears rolling down his cheeks, singing
with the heartiest earnestness and devotion. What shall
we make of it ? Poor heathen Ben ! is it any more out of
the way for him to think of being a Christian in this
manner than for some of his more decent brethren, who
take Sunday passage for eternity in the cushioned New
York or Boston pews, and solemnly drowse through very
sleepy tunes, under a dim, hazy impression that they are
going to heaven 1 ? Of the two, we think Ben s chance is
the best; for in some blind way he does think himself
a sinner, and in need of something he calls salvation; and,
doubtless, while the tears stream down his face, the poor
fellow makes a new resolve against the whiskey-bottle,
while his more respectable sleepy brethren never think of
making one against the cotton-bale.
Then there was his rival, also, Jim Stokes, a surly,
foul-mouthed, swearing fellow, he joins in the chorus of
the hymn, and feels a troublous, vague yearning, deep
down within him, which makes him for the moment doubt
whether he had better knock down Ben at the end of the
meeting.
As to Harry, who stood also among the crowd, the
words and tune recalled but too vividly the incidents of
his morning s interview with Dred, and with it the tumul
tuous boiling of his bitter controversy with the laws of the
society in which he found himself. In hours of such high
excitement, a man seems to have an intuitive perception of
the whole extent and strength of what is within himself;
and if there be anything unnatural or false in his position,
he realizes it with double intensity.
314 DEED
Mr. John Gordon, likewise, gave himself up, without
resistance, to be swayed by the feeling of the hour. He
sang with enthusiasm, and wished he was a soldier of
somebody, going somewhere, or a martyr shouting victory
in the fire; and if the conflict described had been with
any other foe than his own laziness and self-indulgence
had there been any outward, tangible enemy at the mo
ment he would doubtless have enlisted, without loss
of time.
When the hymn was finished, however, there was a
general wiping of eyes, and they all sat down to listen to
the sermon. Father Bonnie led off in an animated strain.
His discourse was like the tropical swamp, bursting out
with a lush abundance of every kind of growth grave,
gay, grotesque, solemn, fanciful, and even coarse carica
ture, provoking the broadest laughter. The audience were
swayed by him like trees before the wind. There were
not wanting touches of rude pathos as well as earnest
appeals. The meeting was a union one of Presbyterians
and Methodists, in which the ministers of both denomina
tions took equal part; and it was an understood agreement
among them, of course, that they were not to venture upon
polemic ground, or attack each other s peculiarities of doc
trine. But Abijah s favorite preacher could not get
through a sermon without some quite pointed exposition
of Scripture bearing on his favorite doctrine of election,
which caused the next minister to run a vehement tilt on
the correlative doctrines of free grace, with a eulogy on
John Wesley. The auditors, meanw T hile, according to
their respective sentiments, encouraged each preacher with
a cry of "Amen!" "Glory be to God!" "Go on, bro
ther ! " and other similar exclamations.
About noon the services terminated, pro tern., and the
audience dispersed themselves to their respective tents
through the grove, where there was an abundance of chat-
THE CAMP-MEETING 3l5
ting, visiting, eating, and drinking, as if the vehement
denunciations and passionate appeals of the morning had
been things of another state of existence. Uncle John, in
the most cheery possible frame of mind, escorted his party
into the woods, and assisted them in unpacking a hamper
containing wine, cold fowls, cakes, pies, and other delica
cies which Aunt Katy had packed for the occasion.
Old Tiff had set up his tent in a snug little nook on the
banks of the stream, where he informed passers-by that it
was his young mas r and missis s establishment, and that
he, Tiff, had come to wait on them. With a good-natured
view of doing him a pleasure, Nina selected a spot for their
nooning at no great distance, and spoke in the most gra
cious and encouraging manner to them, from time to time.
"See, now, can t you, how real quality behaves dem-
selves ! " he said grimly to Old Hundred, who came up
bringing the carriage-cushions for the party to sit down
upon. "Real quality sees into things! I tell ye what,
blood sees into blood. Miss Nina sees dese yer chil en
ain t de common sort dat s what she does ! "
"Umph!" said Old Hundred, "such a muss as ye keep
up about yer chil en! Tell you what, dey ain t no better
dan oder white trash ! "
"Now, you talk dat ar way, I ll knock you down!"
said Old Tiff, who, though a peaceable and law-abiding
creature, in general, was driven, in desperation, to the last
resort of force.
"John, what are you saying to Tiff?" said Nina, who
had overheard some of the last words. " Go back to your
own tent, and don t you trouble him! I have taken him
under my protection."
The party enjoyed their dinner with infinite relish, and
Nina amused herself in watching Tiff s cooking prepara
tions. Before departing to the preaching-ground, he had
arranged a slow fire, on which a savory stew had been all
316 DEED
the morning simmering, and which, on the taking off of
the pot-lid, diffused an agreeable odor through the place.
" I say, Tiff, how delightfully that smells ! said Nina,
getting up, and looking into the pot. "Wouldn t Miss
Fanny be so kind as to favor us with a taste of it 1 "
Fanny, to whom Tiff punctiliously referred the question,
gave a bashful consent. But who shall describe the pride
and glory that swelled the heart of Tiff as he saw a bowl
of his stew smoking among the Gordon viands, praised and
patronized by the party 1 And when Nina placed on their
simple board literally a board, and nothing more a
small loaf of frosted cake, in exchange, it certainly required
all the grace of the morning exercises to keep Tiff within
due bounds of humility. He really seemed to dilate with
satisfaction.
" Tiff, how did you like the sermon 1 " said Nina.
"Dey s pretty far, Miss Nina. Dere s a good deal o
quality preaching."
"What do you mean by quality preaching, Tiff?"
"Why, dat ar kind dat s good for quality full of long
words, you know. I spects it s very good; but poor
nigger like me can t see his way through it. You see, Miss
Nina, what I s studdin on, lately, is, how to get dese yer
chiFen to Canaan; and I hars fus with one ear, and den
with t oder, but pears like ain t clar bout it, yet. Dere s
a heap about mose everything else, and it s all very good;
but pears like I ain t clar, arter all, about dat ar. Dey
says, * Come to Christ ; and I says, Whar is he, any
how 1 ? Bress you, I want to come! Dey talks bout
going in de gate, and knocking at de do , and bout march
ing on de road, and bout fighting and being soldiers of de
cross; and de Lord knows, now, I d be glad to get de
chil en through any gate; and I could take em on my
back and travel all day, if dere was any road; and if dere
was a do , bless me, if dey wouldn t hear Old Tiff a-rap-
THE CAMP-MEETING 317
ping! I spects de Lord would have fur to open it
would so. But, arter all, when de preaching is done, dere
don t pear to be nothing to it. Dere ain t no gate, dere
ain t no do , nor no way; and dere ain t no fighting, cept
when Ben Dakin and Jim Stokes get jawing about der
dogs; and everybody comes back eating der dinner quite
comf table, and pears like dere wa n t no such ting dey s
been preaching bout. Dat ar troubles me does so
cause I wants fur to get dese yer chil en in de kingdom,
some way or oder. I didn t know but some of de quality
would know more bout it."
"Hang me, if I haven t felt just so! " said Uncle John.
"When they were singing that hymn about enlisting and
being a soldier, if there had been any fighting doing any
where, I should have certainly gone right into it; and the
preaching always stirs me up terribly. But then, as Tiff
says, after it s all over, why, there s dinner to be eaten,
and I can t see anything better than to eat it; and then,
by the time I have drank two or three glasses of wine,
it s all gone. Now, that s just the way with me! "
"Dey says," said Tiff, "dat we must wait for de bless
ing to come down upon us, and Aunt Rose says it s dem
dat shouts dat gets de blessing; and I s been shouting till
I s most beat out, but I has n t got it. Den, one of dem
said none of dem could get it but de lect; but den,
t oder one, he seemed to tink different; and in de meeting
dey tells about de scales falling from der eyes, and I
wished dey fall from mine I do so ! Perhaps, Miss
Nina, now, you could tell me something."
"Oh, don t ask me!" said Nina; "I don t know any
thing about these things. I think I feel a little like Uncle
John," she said, turning to Clayton. "There are two
kinds of sermons and hymns; one gets me to sleep, and
the other excites and stirs me up in a general kind of way;
but they don t either seem to do me real good."
318 DEED
"For my part, I am such an enemy to stagnation," said
Clayton, "that I think there is advantage in everything
that stirs up the soul, even though we see no immediate
results. I listen to music, see pictures, as far as I can,
uncritically. I say, * Here I am ; see what you can do
with me. So I present myself to almost all religious
exercises. It is the most mysterious part of our nature.
I do not pretend to understand it, therefore never criti
cise. "
"For my part," said Anne, "there is so much in the
wild freedom of these meetings that shocks my taste and
sense of propriety, that I am annoyed more than I am
benefited."
"There spoke the true, well-trained conventionalist,"
said Clayton. "But look around you. See, in this wood,
among these flowers, and festoons of vine, and arches of
green, how many shocking, unsightly growths! You
would not have had all this underbrush, these dead limbs,
these briers running riot over trees, and sometimes chok
ing and killing them. You would have well-trimmed
trees and velvet turf. But I love briers, dead limb s, and
all, for their very savage freedom. Every once in a while
you see in a wood a jessamine, or a sweet-brier, or a grape
vine, that throws itself into a gracefulness of growth which
a landscape gardener would go down on his knees for,
but cannot get. Nature resolutely denies it to him. She
says, No ! I keep this for my own. You won t have
my wildness my freedom ; very well, then you shall not
have the graces that spring from it. Just so it is with
men. Unite any assembly of common men in a great en
thusiasm, work them up into an abandon, and let every
one let go, and speak as nature prompts, and you will
have brush, underwood, briers, and all grotesque growths;
but, now and then, some thought or sentiment will be
struck out with a freedom or power such as you cannot get
THE CAMP-MEETING 319
in any other way. You cultivated people are much mis
taken when you despise the enthusiasms of the masses.
There is more truth than you think in the old Vox populi,
vox Dei."
"What s that?" said Nina.
" The voice of the people is the voice of God. There
is truth in it. I never repent my share in a popular excite
ment, provided it be of the higher sentiments; and I do
not ask too strictly whether it has produced any tangible
result. I reverence the people, as I do the woods, for the
wild, grand freedom with which their humanity develops
itself."
"I m afraid, Nina," said Aunt Nesbit, in a low tone,
to the latter, "I m afraid he isn t orthodox."
"What makes you think so, aunt? "
"Oh, I don t know; his talk hasn t the real sound."
"You want something that ends in ation, don t you,
aunt ? justification, sanctification, or something of that
kind."
Meanwhile, the department of Abijah Skinflint exhib
ited a decided activity. This was a long, low booth, made
of poles, and roofed with newly cut green boughs. Here
the whiskey-barrel was continually pouring forth its sup
plies to customers who crowded around it. Abijah sat on
the middle of a sort of rude counter, dangling his legs,
and chewing a straw, while his negro was busy in helping
his various customers. Abijah, as we said, being a partic
ularly high Calvinist, was recreating himself by carrying
on a discussion with a fat, little, turnipy brother of the
Methodist persuasion.
"I say," he said, " Stringfellow put it into you Metho
dists this morning ! Hit the nail on the head, I
thought!"
"Not a bit of it!" said the other contemptuously.
320 DEED
"Why, Elder Baskum chawed him up completely! There
wa n t nothin left of him! "
"Well," said Abijah, "strange how folks will see
things! Why, it s just as clar to me that all things is
decreed! Why, that ar nails everything up tight and
handsome. It gives a fellow a kind of comfort to think
on it. Things is just as they have got to be. All this
free-grace stuff is drefful loose talk. If things is been
decreed fore the world was made, well, there seems to be
some sense in their coming to pass. But if everything
kind of turns up whenever folks think on t, it s a kind of
shaky business."
"I don t like this tying up things so tight," said the
other, who evidently was one of the free, jovial order.
"I go in for the freedom of the will. Free gospel, and
free grace."
"For my part," said Abijah, rather grimly, "if things
was managed my way, I shouldn t commune with nobody
that didn t believe in election, up to the hub."
"You strong electioners think you s among the elect! "
said one of the bystanders. "You wouldn t be so crank
about it, if you didn t! Now, see here: if everything is
decreed, how am I going to help myself ? "
"That ar is none of my lookout," said Abijah. "But
there s a pint my mind rests upon everything is fixed
as it can be, and it makes a man mighty easy."
In another part of the camp-ground Ben Dakin was
sitting in his tent- door, caressing one of his favorite dogs,
and partaking his noontide repast with his wife and child.
"I declar," said Ben, wiping his mouth, "wife, I in
tend to go into it, and sarve the Lord, now, full chisel!
If I catch the next lot of niggers, I intend to give half the
money towards keeping up preaching somewhere round
here. I m going to enlist, now, and be a soldier."
THE CAMP-MEETING 321
"And," said his wife, "Ben, just keep clear of Abijah
Skinflint s counter, won t you 1 ?"
"Well, I will, durned if I won t!" said Ben. "I ll
be moderate. A fellow wants a glass or two, to strike up
the hymn on, you know; but I 11 be moderate."
The- Georgia trader, who had encamped in the neighbor
hood, now came up.
"Do you believe, stranger," said he, "one of them
durned niggers of mine broke loose and got in the swamps,
while I was at meeting this morning! Couldn t you take
your dog, here, and give em a run? I just gave nine
hundred dollars for that fellow, cash down."
" Ho ! what you going to him for ? " said Jim Stokes, a
short, pursy, vulgar-looking individual, dressed in a hunt
ing-shirt of blue Kentucky jean, who just then came up.
"Why, durn ye, his dogs ain t no breed t all! Mine s
the true grit, I can tell you; they s the true Florida blood
hounds! I s seen one of them ar dogs shake a nigger in
his mouth like he d been a sponge."
Poor Ben s new-found religion could not withstand this
sudden attack of his spiritual enemy ; and rousing himself,
notwithstanding the appealing glances of his wife, he
stripped up his sleeves, and squaring off, challenged his
rival to a fight.
A crowd gathered round, laughing and betting, and
cheering on the combatants with slang oaths and expres
sions such as we will not repeat, when the concourse was
routed by the approach of Father Bonnie on the outside
of the ring.
"Look here, boys, what works of the devil have you
got round here ? None of this on the camp-ground ! This
is the Lord s ground, here; so shut up your swearing, and
don t fight."
A confused murmur of voices now began to explain to
Father Bonnie the cause of the trouble.
VOL. I.
322 DEED
"Ho, ho!" said he, "let the nigger run; you can catch
him fast enough when the meetings are over. You come
here to tend to your salvation. Ah, don t you be swear
ing and blustering round! Come, boys, join in a hymn
with me. " So saying he struck up a well-known air :
" When Israel went to Jericho,
good Lord, in my soul! "
in which one after another joined, and the rising tumult
was soon assuaged.
"I say," said Father Bonnie to the trader, in an under
tone, as he was walking away, "you got a good cook in
your lot, hey 1 "
"Got a prime one," said the trader; "an A number one
cook, and no mistake ! Picked her up real cheap, and I 11
let you have her for eight hundred dollars, being as you
are a minister."
" You must think the gospel a better trade than it is, "
said Father Bonnie, "if you think a minister can afford to
pay at that figure ! "
"Why," said the trader, "you haven t seen her; it s
dirt cheap for her, I can tell you! A sound, strong,
hearty woman; a prudent, careful housekeeper; a real
pious Methodist, a member of a class-meeting! Why,
eight hundred dollars ain t anything! I ought to get a
thousand for her; but I don t hear preaching for nothing,
always think right to make a discount to ministers ! "
"Why couldn t you bring her in? " said Father Bonnie.
"Maybe I 11 give you seven hundred and fifty for her."
" Could n t do that, noway ! " said the trader. " Could n t,
indeed ! "
"Well, after the meetings are over I 11 talk about it."
"She s got a child, four years old," said the trader,
with a little cough; "healthy, likely child; I suppose I
shall want a hundred dollars for him ! "
"Oh, that won t do!" said Father Bonnie. "I don t
THE CAMP-MEETING 323
want any more children round my place than I ve got
now ! "
"But I tell you," said the trader, "it s a likely boy.
Why, the keeping of him won t cost you anything, and
before you think of it you 11 have a thousand-dollar hand
grown on your own place."
"Well," said Father Bonnie, "I 11 think of it! "
In the evening the scene on the camp-ground was still
more picturesque and impressive. Those who conduct
camp- meetings are generally men who, without much rea
soning upon the subject, fall into a sort of tact in influen
cing masses of mind, and pressing into the service all the
great life forces and influences of nature. A kind of rude
poetry pervades their minds, colors their dialect, and influ
ences their arrangements. The solemn and harmonious
grandeur of night, with all its mysterious power of ex
alting the passions and intensifying the emotions, has
ever been appreciated, and used by them with even poetic
skill. The day had been a glorious one in June; the
sky of that firm, clear blue, the atmosphere of that crys
talline clearness, which often gives to the American
landscape such a sharply denned outline, and to the hu
man system such an intense consciousness of life. The
evening sun went down in a broad sea of light, and even
after it had sunk below the purple horizon, flashed back
a flood of tremulous rose-colored radiance, which, taken up
by a thousand filmy clouds, made the whole sky above like
a glowing tent of the most ethereal brightness. The sha
dows of the forest aisles were pierced by the rose-colored
rays; and as they gradually faded, star after star twinkled
out, and a broad moon, ample and round, rose in the pur
ple zone of the sky. When she had risen above the hori
zon but a short space, her light was so resplendent and so
profuse, that it was decided to conduct the evening service
by that alone; and when, at the sound of the hymn, the
324 DEED
assembly poured in and arranged themselves before the
preaching- stand, it is probable that the rudest heart present
was somewhat impressed with the silent magnificence by
which God was speaking to them through his works. As
the hymn closed, Father Bonnie, advancing to the front of
the stage, lifted his hands, and pointing to the purple sky,
and in a deep and not unmelodious voice, repeated the
words of the Psalmist :
"The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firma
ment showeth his handy-work; day unto day uttereth
speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge."
"Oh, ye sinners! " he exclaimed, "look up at the moon,
there, walking in her brightness, and think over your
oaths, and your cursings, and your drinkings! Think
over your backbitings, and your cheatings ! think over your
quarrelings and your fightings! How do they look to
you now, with that blessed moon shining down upon you ?
Don t you see the beauty of our Lord God upon her?
Don t you see how the saints walk in white with the Lord,
like her 1 I dare say some of you, now, have had a pious
mother, or a pious wife, or a pious sister, that s gone to
glory ? and there they are walking with the Lord ! walk
ing with the Lord, through the sky, and looking down on
you, sinners, just as that moon looks down! And what
does she see you doing, your wife, or your mother, or
sister, that s in glory 1 ? Does she see all your swearings,
and your drinkings, and your fightings, and your hanker
ings after money, and your horse-racings, and your cock-
fightings ? Oh, sinners, but you are a bad set! I tell
you the Lord is looking now down on you, out of that
moon ! He is looking down in mercy ! But, I tell you,
he ll look down quite another way, one of these days!
Oh, there 11 be a time of wrath, by and by, if you don t
repent! Oh, what a time there was at Sinai, years ago,
when the voice of the trumpet waxed louder and louder,
THE CAMP-MEETING 325
and the mountain was all of a smoke, and there were thun-
derings and lightnings, and the Lord descended on Sinai!
That s nothing to what you 11 see, by and by! No more
moon looking down on you! No more stars, but the
heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the
elements shall melt with fervent heat ! Ah ! did you ever
see a fire in the woods? I have; and I ve seen the fire
on the prairies, and it rolled like a tempest, and men and
horses and everything had to run before it. I have seen
it roaring and crackling through the woods, and great trees
shriveled in a minute like tinder! I have seen it flash
over trees seventy-five and a hundred feet high, and in a
minute they d be standing pillars of fire, and the heavens
were all ablaze, and the crackling and roaring was like
the sea in a storm. There s a judgment-day for you!
Oh, sinner, what will become of you in that day 1 Never
cry, Lord, Lord ! Too late too late, man ! You
wouldn t take mercy when it was offered, and now you
shall have wrath! No place to hide! The heavens and
earth are passing away, and there shall be no more sea!
There s no place for you now in God s universe."
By this time there were tumultuous responses from the
audience of groans, cries, clapping of hands, and mingled
shouts of Glory and Amen.
The electric shout of the multitude acted on the preacher
again, as he went on, with a yet fiercer energy. "Now is
your time, sinners! Now is your time! Come unto the
altar, and God s people will pray for you! Now is the
day of grace! Come up! Come up, you that have got
pious fathers and mothers in glory! Come up, father!
come up, mother ! come up, brother ! Come, young man !
we want you to come ! Ah, there s a hardened sinner, off
there ! I see his lofty looks ! Come up, come up ! Come
up, you rich sinners! You 11 be poor enough in the day
of the Lord, I can tell you ! Come up, you young women !
326 DEED
You daughters of Jerusalem, with your tinkling ornaments !
Come, saints of the Lord, and labor with me in prayer.
Strike up a hymn, brethren, strike up the hymn ! " And
a thousand voices commenced the hymn,
" Stop, poor sinner, stop and think,
Before you further go! "
And, meanwhile, ministers and elders moved around the
throng, entreating and urging one and another to come and
kneel before the stand. Multitudes rushed forward, groans
and sobs were heard, as the speaker continued, with redou
bled vehemence.
"I don t care," said Mr. John Gordon, "who sees me;
I m going up ! I am a poor old sinner, and I ought to be
prayed for, if anybody."
Nina shrank back, and clung to Clayton s arm. So
vehement was the surging feeling of the throng around her
that she wept with a wild, tremulous excitement.
"Do take me out, it s dreadful! " she said.
Clayton passed his arm round her, and opening a way
through the crowd, carried her out beyond the limits,
where they stood together alone, under the tree.
"I know I am not good as I ought to be," she said,
"but I don t know how to be any better. Do you think
it would do me any good to go up there 1 Do you believe
in these things ? "
"I sympathize with every effort that man makes to
approach his Maker," said Clayton; "these ways do not
suit me, but I dare not judge them. I cannot despise
them. I must not make myself a rule for others."
"But don t you think," said Nina, "that these things
do harm sometimes 1 "
" Alas, child, what form of religion does not 1 It is our
fatality that everything that does good must do harm.
It s the condition of our poor, imperfect life here."
"I do not like these terrible threats," said Nina. "Can
THE CAMP-MEETING 327
fear of fire make me love? Besides, I have a kind of
courage in me that always rises up against a threat. It
isn t my nature to fear. 7
"If we may judge our Father by his voice in nature,"
said Clayton, "he deems severity a necessary part of our
training. How inflexibly and terribly regular are all his
laws! Fire and hail, snow and vapor, stormy wind, ful
filling his word all these have a crushing regularity in
their movements, which show that he is to be feared as
well as loved."
"But I want to be. religious," said Nina, "entirely apart
from such considerations. Not driven by fear, but drawn
by love. You can guide me about these things, for you
are religious."
"I fear I should not be accepted as such in any church,"
said Clayton. "It is my misfortune that I cannot receive
any common form of faith, though I respect and sympa
thize with all. Generally speaking, preaching only weakens
my faith; and I have to forget the sermon in order to re
cover my faith. I do not believe I know that our moral
nature needs a thorough regeneration; and I believe this
must come through Christ. This is all I am certain of."
"I wish I were like Milly," said Nina. "She is a
Christian, I know; but she has come to it by dreadful
sorrows. Sometimes I m afraid to ask my heavenly
Father to make me good, because I think it will come by
dreadful trials, if he does."
"And I," said Clayton, speaking with great earnestness,
" would be willing to suffer anything conceivable, if I could
only overcome all evil, and come up to my highest ideas
of good." And as he spoke, he turned his face up to the
moonlight with an earnest fervor of expression, that struck
Nina deeply.
"I almost shudder to hear you say so! You don t know
what it may bring on you ! "
328 DEED
He looked at her with a beautiful smile, which was a
peculiar expression of his face in moments of high excite
ment.
"I say it again!" he said. "Whatever it involves, let
it come ! "
The exercises of the evening went on with a succession
of addresses, varied by singing of hymns and prayers. In
the latter part of the time many declared themselves con
verts, and were shouting loudly. Father Bonnie came
forward.
"Brethren," he shouted, "we are seeing a day from the
Lord! We ve got a glorious time! Oh, brethren, let us
sing glory to the Lord ! The Lord is coming among us ! "
The excitement now became general. There was a
confused sound of exhortation, prayers, and hymns, all
mixed together, from different parts of the ground. But
all of a sudden, every one was startled by a sound which
seemed to come pealing down directly from the thick
canopy of pines over the heads of the ministers.
"Woe unto you that desire the day of the Lord! To
what end shall it be for you ? The day of the Lord shall
be darkness, and not light ! Blow ye the trumpet in Zion !
Sound an alarm in my holy mountain ! Let all the inhabi
tants of the land tremble ! for the day of the Lord com-
eth!"
There was deep, sonorous power in the voice that spoke,
and the words fell pealing down through the air like the
vibrations of some mighty bell. Men looked confusedly
on each other; but in the universal license of the hour,
the obscurity of the night, and the multitude of the
speakers, no one knew exactly whence it came. After a
moment s pause, the singers were recommencing, when
again the same deep voice was heard.
"Take away from me the noise of thy songs, and the
THE CAMP-MEETING 329
melody of thy viols; for I will not hear them, saith the
Lord. I hate and despise your feast-days! I will not
smell in your solemn assemblies ; for your hands are denied
with blood, and your fingers are greedy for violence ! Will
ye kill, and steal, and commit adultery, and swear falsely,
and come and stand before me, saith the Lord 1 Ye oppress
the poor and needy, and hunt the stranger; also in thy
skirts is found the blood of poor innocents! and yet ye
say, Because I am clean shall his anger pass from me!
Hear this, ye that swallow up the needy, and make the
poor of the land to fail, saying, When will the new moon
be gone, that we may sell corn? that we may buy the poor
for silver, and the needy for a pair of shoes 1 The Lord
hath sworn, saying, I will never forget their works. I
will surely visit you ! "
The audience, thus taken, in the obscurity of the even
ing, by an unknown speaker, whose words seemed to fall
apparently from the clouds, in a voice of such strange and
singular quality, began to feel a creeping awe stealing over
them. The high state of electrical excitement under which
they had been going on, predisposed them to a sort of
revulsion of terror; and a vague, mysterious panic crept
upon them, as the boding, mournful voice continued to
peal from the trees.
"Hear, oh ye rebellious people! The Lord is against
this nation! The Lord shall stretch out upon it the line
of confusion, and the stones of emptiness! For thou
saidst, I will ascend into the stars ; I will be as God ! But
thou shalt be cast out as an abominable branch, and the
wild beasts shall tread thee down! Howl, fir-tree, for thou
art spoiled! Open thy doors, Lebanon, that the fire
may devour thy cedars! for the Lord cometh out of his
place to punish the inhabitants of the land! The Lord
shall utter his voice before his army, for his camp is very
great ! Multitudes ! multitudes ! in the valley of decision !
330 DEED
For the day of the Lord is near in the valley of decision !
The sun and the moon shall be dark, and the stars with
draw their shining; for the Lord shall utter his voice from
Jerusalem, and the heavens and earth shall shake! In
that day I will cause the sun to go down at noon, and
darken the whole earth ! And I will turn your feasts into
mourning, and your songs into lamentation ! Woe to the
bloody city ! It is full of lies and robbery ! The noise of
a whip ! the noise of the rattling of wheels ! of the
prancing horses, and the jumping chariot! The horseman
lifteth up the sword and glittering spear! and there is a
multitude of slain ! There is no end of their corpses !
They are stumbling upon the corpses ! For, Behold, I am
against thee, saith the Lord, and I will make thee utterly
desolate !
There was a fierce, wailing earnestness in the sound of
these dreadful words, as if they were uttered in a paroxysm
of affright and horror, by one who stood face to face with
some tremendous form. And when the sound ceased,
men drew in their breath, and looked on each other, and
the crowd began slowly to disperse, whispering in low
voices to each other. So extremely piercing and so wildly
earnest had the voice been, that it actually seemed, in the
expressive words of Scripture, to make every ear to tingle.
And as people of rude and primitive habits are always
predisposed to superstition, there crept through the differ
ent groups wild legends of prophets strangely commissioned
to announce coming misfortunes. Some spoke of the pre
dictions of the judgment-day ; some talked of comets, and
strange signs that had preceded wars and pestilences. The
ministers wondered, and searched around the stand in vain.
One auditor alone could, had he desired it, make an expla
nation. Harry, who stood near the stand, had recognized
the voice. But though he searched, also, around, he
could find no one.
THE CAMP-MEETING 331
He who spoke was one whose savage familiarity with
nature gave him the agility and stealthy adroitness of a
wild animal. And during the stir and commotion of the
dispersing audience, he had silently made his way from
tree to tree, over the very heads of those who were yet
wondering at his strange, boding words, till at last he
descended in a distant part of the forest.
After the service, as Father Dickson was preparing to
retire to his tent, a man pulled him by the sleeve. It
was the Georgia trader.
"We have had an awful time, to-night! " said he, look
ing actually pale with terror. "Do you think the judg
ment-day really is coming 1 "
" My friend, " said Father Dickson, " it surely is ! Every
step we take in life is leading us directly to the judgment-
seat of Christ ! "
"Well," said the trader, "but do you think that was
from the Lord, the last one that spoke? Durned if he
didn t say awful things! nough to make the hair rise!
I tell you what, I ve often had doubts about my trade.
The ministers may prove it s all right out of the Old Tes
tament; but I m durned if I think they know all the
things that we do! But then, I ain t so bad as some of
em. But now, I ve got a gal out in my gang that s
dreadful sick, and I partly promised her I d bring a minis
ter to see her."
"I ll go with you, friend," said Father Dickson; and
forthwith he began following the trader to the racks where
their horses were tied. Selecting, out of some hundred
who were tied there, their own beasts, the two midnight
travelers soon found themselves trotting along under the
shadow of the forest s boughs.
"My friend," said Father Dickson, "I feel bound in
conscience to tell you that I think your trade a ruinous
one to your soul. I hope you 11 lay to heart the solemn
332 DEED
warning you ve heard to-night. Why, your own sense
can show you that a trade can t be right that you d be
afraid to be found in if the great judgment-day were at
hand."
"Well, I rather spect you speak the truth; but then,
what makes Father Bonnie stand up for t? "
"My friend, I must say that I think Father Bonnie
upholds a soul-destroying error. I must say that, as con
science-bound. I pray the Lord for him and you both. I
put it right to your conscience, my friend, whether you
think you could keep to your trade, and live a Christian
life."
"No; the fact is, it s a d d bad business, that s just
where tis. We ain t fit to be trusted with such things
that come to us gals and women. Well, I feel pretty
bad, I tell you, to-night; cause I know I haven t done
right by this yer gal. I ought fur to have let her alone ;
but then, the devil or something possessed me. And now
she has got a fever, and screeches awfully. I declar, some
things she says go right through me ! "
Father Dickson groaned in spirit over this account, and
felt himself almost guilty for belonging ostensibly and out
wardly to a church which tolerated such evils. He rode
along by the side of his companion, breaking forth into
occasional ejaculations and snatches of hymns. After a
ride of about an hour, they arrived at the encampment.
A large fire had been made in a cleared spot, and smoul
dering fragments and brands were lying among the white
ashes. One or two horses were tied to a neighboring tree,
and wagons were drawn up by them. Around the fire, in
different groups, lay about fifteen men and women, with
heavy iron shackles on their feet, asleep in the moonlight.
At a little distance from the group, and near to one of the
wagons, a blanket was spread down on the ground under
a tree, on which lay a young girl of seventeen, tossing and
THE CAMP-MEETING 333
moaning in a disturbed stupor. A respectable-looking
mulatto woman was sitting beside her, with a gourd full
of water, with which from time to time she moistened her
forehead. The woman rose as the trader came up.
"Well, Nance, how does she do now 1 ? " said the trader.
"Mis able enough! " said Nance. "She done been toss
ing, a-throwing round, and crying for her mammy, ever
since you went away ! "
"Well, I ve brought the minister," said he. "Try,
Nance, to wake her up; she 11 be glad to see him."
The woman knelt down, and took the hand of the
sleeper.
" Emily ! Emily ! " she said, " wake up ! "
The girl threw herself over with a sudden, restless toss.
" Oh, how my head burns ! Oh, dear ! Oh, my mother !
Mother ! mother ! mother ! why don t you come to
me?"
Father Dickson approached and knelt the other side of
her. The mulatto woman made another effort to bring
her to consciousness.
"Emily, here s the minister you was wanting so much!
Emily, wake up ! "
The girl slowly opened her eyes large, tremulous,
dark eyes. She drew her hand across them, as if to clear
her sight, and looked wistfully at the woman.
" Minister ! minister ! " she said.
"Yes, minister! You said you wanted to see one."
" Oh yes, I did ! " she said heavily.
"My daughter!" said Father Dickson, "you are very
sick!"
"Yes!" she said, "very! And I m glad of it! I m
going to die! I m glad of that, too! That s all I ve
got left to be glad of ! But I wanted to ask you to write
to my mother. She is a free woman; she lives in New
York. I want you to give my love to her, and tell her
334 DEED
not to worry any more. Tell her I tried all I could to
get to her; but they took us, and mistress was so angry
she sold me! I forgive her, too. I don t bear her any
malice, cause it s all over, now ! She used to say I was
a wild girl, and laughed too loud. I sha n t trouble any
one that way any more! So that s no matter! "
The girl spoke these sentences at long intervals, occa
sionally opening her eyes and closing them again in a
languid manner. Father Dickson, however, who had
some knowledge of medicine, placed his finger on her
pulse, which was rapidly sinking. It is the usual instinct,
in all such cases, to think of means of prolonging life.
Father Dickson rose, and said to the trader :
" Unless some stimulant be given her, she will be gone
very soon ! "
The trader produced from his pocket a flask of brandy,
which he mixed with a little water in a cup, and placed it
in Father Dickson s hand. He kneeled down again, and
calling her by name, tried to make her take some.
"What is it?" said she, opening her wild, glittering
eyes.
"It s something to make you feel better."
"I don t want to feel better! I want to die! " she said,
throwing herself over. "What should I want to live for? "
What should she? The words struck Father Dickson
so much that he sat for a while in silence. He meditated
in his mind how he could reach, with any words, that
dying ear, or enter with her into that land of trance and
mist, into whose cloudy circle the soul seemed already to
have passed. Guided by a subtle instinct, he seated him
self by the dying girl, and began singing, in a subdued,
plaintive air, the following well-known hymn :
" Hark, my soul ! it is the Lord,
T is thv Saviour, hear his word;
Jesus speaks he speaks to thee!
Say, poor sinner, lov st thou me ? "
THE CAMP-MEETING 335
The melody is one often sung among the negroes; and
one which, from its tenderness and pathos, is JL favorite
among them. As oil will find its way into crevices where
water cannot penetrate, so song will find its way where
speech can no longer enter. The moon shone full on the
face of the dying girl, only interrupted by flickering sha
dows of leaves; and as Father Dickson sang, he fancied
he saw a slight, tremulous movement of the face, as if the
soul, so worn and weary, were upborne on the tender
pinions of the song. He went on singing :
" Can a mother s tender care
Cease toward the child she bare ?
Yes, she may forgetful be :
Still will I remember thee."
By the light of the moon, he saw a tear steal from
under the long lashes, and course slowly down her cheek.
He continued his song :
" Mine is an eternal love,
Higher than the heights above,
Deeper than the depths beneath,
True and faithful strong as death.
"Thou shalt see my glorv soon,
When the work of faith is done ;
Partner of my throne shalt be !
Say, poor sinner, lov st thou me ? "
Oh, love of Christ! which no sin can weary, which no
lapse of time can change; from which tribulation, perse
cution, and distress cannot separate all-redeeming, all-
glorifying, changing even death and despair to the gate of
heaven ! Thou hast one more triumph here in the wilder
ness, in the slave-coffle, and thou comest to bind up the
broken hearted.
As the song ceased, she opened her eyes.
"Mother used to sing that! " she said.
" And can you believe in it, daughter 1 "
"Yes," she said, "I see Him now! He loves me!
Let me go ! "
336 DEED
There followed a few moments of those strugglings and
shiverings which are the birth-pangs of another life, and
Emily lay at rest.
Father Dickson, kneeling by her side, poured out the
fullness of his heart in an earnest prayer. Rising, he went
up to the trader, and taking his hand, said to him,
"My friend, this may be the turning-point with your
soul for eternity. It has pleased the Lord to show you
the evil of your ways; and now my advice to you is,
break off your sins at once, and do works meet for repent
ance. Take off the shackles of these poor creatures, and
tell them they are at liberty to go."
"Why, bless your soul, sir, this yer lot s worth ten
thousand dollars ! " said the trader, who was not prepared
for so close a practical application.
Do not be too sure, friend, that the trader is peculiar
in this. The very same argument, though less frankly
stated, holds in the bonds of Satan many extremely well-
bred, refined, respectable men, who would gladly save
their souls if they could afford the luxury.
"My friend," said Father Dickson, using the words of
a very close and uncompromising preacher of old, "what
shall it profit a man if he should gain the whole world,
and lose his own soul ? "
"I know that," said the trader doubtfully; "but it s
a very hard case, this. I 11 think about it, though. But
there s Father Bonnie wants to buy Nance. It would be
a pity to disappoint him. But I 11 think it over."
Father Dickson returned to the camp-ground between
one and two o clock at night, and putting away his horse,
took his way to the ministers tent. Here he found Father
Bonnie standing out in the moonlight. He had been
asleep within the tent; but it is to be confessed that the
interior of a crowded tent on a camp-ground is anything
but favorable to repose. He therefore came out into the
THE CAMP-MEETING 337
fresh air, and was there when Father Dickson came back
to enter the tent.
"Well, brother, where have you been so late?" said
Father Bonnie.
"I have been looking for a few sheep in the wilderness,
whom everybody neglects," said Father Dickson. And
then, in a tone tremulous from agitation, he related to him
the scene he had just witnessed.
"Do you see," he said, "brother, what iniquities you
are countenancing? Now here, right next to our camp,
a slave-coffle encamped! Men and women, guilty of no
crime, driven in fetters through our land, shaming us in
the sight of every Christian nation! What horrible,
abominable iniquities are these poor traders tempted to
commit! What perfect hells are the great trading-houses,
where men, women, and children are made merchandise
of, and where no light of the gospel ever enters! And
when this poor trader is convicted of sin, and wants to
enter into the kingdom, you stand there to apologize for
his sins ! Brother Bonnie, I much fear you are the stum
bling-block over which souls will stumble into hell. I
don t think you believe your argument from the Old Testa
ment, yourself. You must see that it has no kind of rela
tion to such kind of slavery as we have in this country.
There s an awful Scripture which saith: He feedeth on
ashes ; a deceived heart hath turned him aside, so that he
cannot deliver his soul, nor say, Is there not a lie in my
right hand 1 "
The earnestness with which Father Dickson spoke, com
bined with the reverence commonly entertained for his
piety, gave great force to his words. The reader will not
therefore wonder to hear that Father Bonnie, impulsive
and easily moved as he was, wept at the account, and was
moved by the exhortation. Nor will he be surprised to
VOL. I.
338 DEED
learn that, two weeks after, Father Bonnie drove a hrisk
bargain with the same trader for three new hands.
The trader had discovered that the judgment-day was
not coming yet a while ; and Father Bonnie satisfied him
self that Noah, when he awoke from his wine, said,
"Cursed be Canaan."
We have one scene more to draw before we dismiss the
auditors of the camp-meeting.
At a late hour the Gordon carriage was winding its way
under the silent, checkered, woodland path. Harry, who
came slowly on a horse behind, felt a hand laid on his
bridle. With a sudden start, he stopped. "Oh, Dred, is
it you ? How dared you how could you be so impru
dent? How dared you come here, when you know you
risk your life 1 "
"Life! " said the other, "what is life? He that loveth
his life shall lose it. Besides, the Lord said unto me,
Go ! The Lord is with me as a mighty and terrible one !
Harry, did you mark those men? Hunters of men, their
hands red with the blood of the poor, all seeking unto the
Lord! Ministers who buy and sell us! Is this a people
prepared for the Lord ? I left a man dead in the swamps,
whom their dogs have torn ! His wife is a widow his
children, orphans! They eat and wipe their mouth, and
say, What have I done ? The temple of the Lord, the
temple of the Lord, are we ! "
"I know it," said Harry gloomily.
"And you join yourself unto them? "
"Don t speak to me any more about that! I won t
betray you, but I won t consent to have blood shed. My
mistress is my sister."
"Oh yes, to be sure! They read Scripture, don t
they ? Cast out the children of the bondwoman ! That s
Scripture for them ! "
THE CAMP-MEETING 339
"Died," said Harry, "I love her better than I love
myself. I will fight for her to the last, but never against
her, nor hers ! "
" And you will serve Tom Gordon ? " said Dred.
" Never ! " said Harry.
Dred stood still a moment. Through an opening among
the branches the moonbeams streamed down on his wild,
dark figure. Harry remarked his eye fixed before him on
vacancy, the pupil swelling out in glassy fullness, with a
fixed, somnambulic stare. After a moment, he spoke, in
a hollow, altered voice, like that of a sleep-walker :
"Then shall the silver cord be loosed, and the golden
bowl be broken. Yes, cover up the grave cover it up !
Now, hurry ! come to me, or he will take thy wife for a
prey ! "
"Dred, what do you mean?" said Harry. "What s
the matter ? " He shook him by the shoulder.
Dred rubbed his eyes, and stared on Harry.
"I must go back," he said, "to my den. Foxes have
holes, the birds of the air have nests, and in the habita
tion of dragons the Lord hath opened a way for his out
casts!"
He plunged into the thickets, and was gone.
CHAPTER XXIV
LIFE IN THE SWAMPS
OUR readers will perhaps feel an interest to turn back
with us, and follow the singular wanderings of the myste
rious personage, whose wild denunciations had so disturbed
the minds of the worshipers at the camp-meeting.
There is a twilight-ground between the boundaries of
the sane and insane, which the old Greeks and Romans
regarded with a peculiar veneration. They held a person
whose faculties were thus darkened as walking under the
awful shadow of a supernatural presence; and as the mys
terious secrets of the stars only become visible in the
night, so in these eclipses of the more material faculties
they held there was often an awakening of supernatural
perceptions.
The hot and positive light of our modern material
ism, which exhales from the growth of our existence
every dewdrop, which searches out and dries every rivulet
of romance, which sends an unsparing beam into every
cool grotto of poetic possibility, withering the moss, and
turning the dropping cave to a dusty den this spirit,
so remorseless, allows us no such indefinite land. There
are but two words in the whole department of modern
anthropology the sane and the insane ; the latter dis
missed from human reckoning almost with contempt. We
should find it difficult to give a suitable name to the
strange and abnormal condition in which this singular
being, of whom we are speaking, passed the most of his
time. It was a state of exaltation and trance, which yet
LIFE IN THE SWAMPS 341
appeared not at all to impede the exercise of his outward
and physical faculties, but rather to give them a preter
natural keenness and intensity, such as sometimes attends
the more completely developed phenomena of somnambu
lism.
In regard to his physical system there was also much
that was peculiar. Our readers may imagine a human
body of the largest and keenest vitality to grow up so
completely under the nursing influences of nature, that it
may seem to be as perfectly en rapport with them as a
tree; so that the rain, the wind, and the thunder, all
those forces from which human beings generally seek
shelter, seem to hold with it a kind of fellowship, and to
be familiar companions of existence.
Such was the case with Dred. So completely had he
come into sympathy and communion with nature, and with
those forms of it which more particularly surrounded him
in the swamps, that he moved about among them with as
much ease as a lady treads her Turkey carpet. What
would seem to us in recital to be incredible hardship was
to him but an ordinary condition of existence. To walk
knee-deep in the spongy soil of the swamp, to force his
way through thickets, to lie all night sinking in the porous
soil, or to crouch, like the alligator, among reeds and
rushes, were to him situations of as much comfort as well-
curtained beds and pillows are to us.
It is not to be denied, that there is in this savage per
fection of the natural organs a keen and almost fierce
delight, which must excel the softest seductions of luxury.
Anybody who has ever watched the eager zest with which
the hunting- dog plunges through the woods, darts through
the thicket, or dives into water, in an ecstasy of enjoy
ment, sees something of what such vital force must be.
Dred was under the inspiring belief that he was the
subject of visions and supernatural communications. The
342 DEED
African race are said by mesmerists to possess, in the fullest
degree, that peculiar temperament which fits them for the
evolution of mesmeric phenomena; and hence the existence
among them, to this day, of men and women who are sup
posed to have peculiar magical powers. The grandfather
of Dred, on his mother s side, had been one of these
reputed African sorcerers, and he had early discovered in
the boy this peculiar species of temperament. He had
taught him the secret of snake-charming, and had possessed
his mind from childhood with expectations of prophetic
and supernatural impulses. That mysterious and singular
gift, whatever it may be, which Highland seers denomi
nate second sight, is a very common tradition among the
negroes; and there are not wanting thousands of reputed
instances among them to confirm belief in it. What this
faculty may be, we shall not pretend to say. Whether
there be in the soul a yet undeveloped attribute, which is
to be to the future what memory is to the past, or whether
in some individuals an extremely high and perfect condi
tion of the sensuous organization endows them with some
thing of that certainty of instinctive discrimination which
belongs to animals, are things which we shall not venture
to decide upon.
It was, however, an absolute fact with regard to Dred,
that he had often escaped danger by means of a peculiarity
of this kind. He had been warned from particular places
where the hunters had lain in wait for him; had foreseen
in times of want where game might be ensnared, and
received intimations where persons were to be found in
whom he might safely confide; and his predictions with
regard to persons and things had often chanced to be so
strikingly true, as to invest his sayings with a singular
awe and importance among his associates.
It was a remarkable fact, but one not peculiar to this
case alone, that the mysterious exaltation of mind in this
LIFE IN THE SWAMPS 343
individual seemed to run parallel with the current of
shrewd, practical sense; and like a man who converses
alternately in two languages, he would speak now the
language of exaltation, and now that of common life, inter
changeably. This peculiarity imparted a singular and
grotesque effect to his whole personality.
On the night of the camp- meeting, he was, as we have
already seen, in a state of the highest ecstasy. The wanton
murder of his associate seemed to flood his soul with an
awful tide of emotion, as a thundercloud is filled and
shaken by slow-gathering electricity. And although the
distance from his retreat to the camp-ground was nearly
fifteen miles, most of it through what seemed to be impas
sable swamps, yet he performed it with as little conscious
ness of fatigue as if he had been a spirit. Even had he
been perceived at that time, it is probable that he could
no more have been taken, or bound, than the demoniac of
Gadara.
After he parted from Harry he pursued his way to the
interior of the swamp, as was his usual habit, repeating to
himself, in a chanting voice, such words of prophetic writ
as were familiar to him.
The day had been sultry, and it was now an hour or two
past midnight, when a thunderstorm, which had long
been gathering and muttering in the distant sky, began to
develop its forces. A low, shivering sigh crept through
the woods, and swayed in weird whistlings the tops of the
pines; and sharp arrows of lightning came glittering down
among the darkness of the branches, as if sent from the
bow of some warlike angel. An army of heavy clouds
swept in a moment across the moon; then came a broad,
dazzling, blinding sheet of flame, concentrating itself on
the top of a tall pine near where Dred was standing, and
in a moment shivered all its branches to the ground, as a
child strips the leaves from a twig. Dred clapped his
344 DEED
hands with a fierce delight; and while the rain and
wind were howling and hissing around him, he shouted
aloud :
"Wake, arm of the Lord! Awake, put on thy
strength! The voice of the Lord breaketh the cedars
yea, the cedars of Lebanon ! The voice of the Lord divid-
eth the flames of fire ! The voice of the Lord shaketh the
wilderness of Kadesh ! Hailstones and coals of fire ! "
The storm, which howled around him, bent the forest
like a reed, and large trees, uprooted from the spongy and
tremulous soil, fell crashing with a tremendous noise; but
as if he had been a dark spirit of the tempest, he shouted
and exulted.
The perception of such awful power seemed to animate
him, and yet to excite in his soul an impatience that He
whose power was so infinite did not awake to judgment.
"Rend the heavens," he cried, "and come down!
Avenge the innocent blood! Cast forth thine arrows, and
slay them ! Shoot out thy lightnings, and destroy them ! "
His soul seemed to kindle with almost a fierce impa
tience, at the toleration of that Almighty Being, who,
having the power to blast and to burn, so silently endures.
Could Dred have possessed himself of those lightnings,
what would have stood before him ? But his cry, like the
cry of thousands, only went up to stand in waiting till an
awful coming day !
Gradually the storm passed by; the big drops dashed
less and less frequently; a softer breeze passed through the
forest, with a patter like the clapping of a thousand little
wings; and the moon occasionally looked over the silvery
battlements of the great clouds.
As Dred was starting to go forward, one of these clear
revealings showed him the cowering form of a man,
crouched at the root of a tree, a few paces in front of him.
He was evidently a fugitive, and, in fact, was the one of
LIFE IN THE SWAMPS 345
whose escape to the swamps the Georgia trader had com
plained of the day of the meeting.
"Who is here, at this time of night?" said Dred, com
ing up to him.
"I have lost my way," said the other. "I don t know
where I am ! "
"A runaway? " inquired Dred.
"Don t betray me! " said the other apprehensively.
" Betray you ! Would I do that 1 " said Dred. " How
did you get into the swamp 1 "
"I got away from a soul-driver s camp, that was taking
us on through the states."
"Oh, oh!" said Dred. "Camp-meeting and driver s
camp right alongside of each other! Shepherds that sell
the flock, and pick the bones! Well, come, old man; I 11
take you home with me."
"I m pretty much beat out," said the man. "It s
been up over my knees every step; and I didn t know but
they d set the dogs after me. If they do, I 11 let em
kill me, and done with it, for I m bout ready to have it
over with. I got free once, and got clear up to New
York, and got me a little bit of a house, and a wife and
two children, with a little money beforehand; and then
they nabbed me, and sent me back again, and mas r sold
rne to the drivers, and I believe I s bout as good s die.
There s no use in trying to live everything going agin
a body so ! "
"Die! No, indeed, you won t," said Dred; "not if
I ve got hold of you! Take heart, man, take heart! Be
fore morning I 11 put you where the dogs can t find you,
nor anything else. Come, up with you ! "
The man rose up, and made an effort to follow; but
wearied, and unused as he was to the choked and per
plexed way, he stumbled and fell almost every minute.
"How now, brother?" said Dred. "This won t do!
346 DEED
I must put you over my shoulder as I have many a buck
before now ! " And suiting the action to the word, he
put the man on his back, and bidding him hold fast to
him, went on, picking his way as if he scarcely perceived
his weight.
It was now between two and three o clock, and the
clouds, gradually dispersing, allowed the full light of the
moon to slide down here and there through the wet and
shivering foliage. No sound was heard, save the hum
ming of insects and the crackling plunges by which Dred
made his way forward.
" You must be pretty strong ! " said his companion.
"Have you been in the swamps long? "
"Yes," said the other, "I have been a wild man
every man s hand against me a companion of the dragons
and the owls, this many a year. I have made my bed
with the leviathan, among the reeds and the rushes. I
have found the alligators and the snakes better neighbors
than Christians. They let those alone that let them alone;
but Christians will hunt for the precious life."
After about an hour of steady traveling, Dred arrived at
the outskirts of the island which we have described. For
about twenty paces before he reached it, he waded waist-
deep in water. Creeping out, at last, and telling the other
one to follow him, he began carefully coursing along on his
hands and knees, giving, at the same time, a long, shrill,
peculiar whistle. It was responded to by a similar sound,
which seemed to proceed through the bushes. After a
while, a crackling noise was heard, as of some animal,
which gradually seemed to come nearer and nearer to them,
till finally a large water-dog emerged from the underbrush,
and began testifying his joy at the arrival of the new
comer, by most extravagant gambols.
"So, ho! Buck! quiet, my boy!" said Dred. "Show
us the way in ! "
LIFE IN THE SWAMPS 347
The dog, as if understanding the words, immediately
turned into the thicket, and Dred and his companion fol
lowed him, on their hands and knees. The path wound
up and down the brushwood, through many sharp turn
ings, till at last it ceased altogether, at the roots of a tree ;
and while the dog disappeared among the brushwood,
Dred climbed the tree, and directed his companion to fol
low him, and proceeding out on to one of the longest
limbs, he sprang nimbly on to the ground in the cleared
space which we have before described.
His wife was standing waiting for him, and threw her
self upon him with a cry of joy. "Oh, you ve come
back! I thought, sure enough, dey d got you dis time! "
"Not yet! I must continue till the opening of the
seals till the vision cometh ! Have ye buried him ? "
"No; there s a grave dug down yonder, and he s been
carried there."
"Come, then!" said Dred.
At a distant part of the clearing was a blasted cedar-
tree, all whose natural foliage had perished. But it was
veiled from head to foot in long wreaths of the tillandsia,
the parasitic moss of these regions, and in the dim light
of the approaching dawn, might have formed no unapt
resemblance to a gigantic spectre dressed in mourning
weeds. Beneath this tree Dred had interred, from time
to time, the bodies of fugitives which he had found dead
in the swamps, attaching to this disposition of them some
peculiar superstitious idea.
The widow of the dead, the wife of Dred, and the new
comer were now gathered around the shallow grave; for
the soil was such as scarcely gave room to make a place
deep enough for a grave without its becoming filled with
water. The dawn was just commencing a dim foreshadow
ing in the sky. The moon and stars were still shining.
Dred stood and looked up, and spoke in a solemn voice :
348 DEED
" Seek him that maketh Arcturus and Orion that
turneth the shadow of death into morning ! Behold those
lights in the sky the lights in his hands pierced for the
sins of the world, and spread forth as on a cross! But
the day shall come that he shall lay down the yoke, and
he will bear the sin of the world no longer. Then shall
come the great judgment. He will lay righteousness to
the line and judgment to the plummet, and the hail shall
sweep away the refuges of lies."
He stooped, and lifting the body, laid him in the
grave, and at this moment the wife broke into a loud
lament.
"Hush, woman!" said Dred, raising his hand. "Weep
ye not for the dead, neither bewail him; but weep ye sore
for the living ! He must rest till the rest of his brethren
be killed; for the vision is sealed up for an appointed
time. If it tarry, wait for it. It shall surely come, and
shall not tarry ! "
CHAPTER XXV
MORE SUMMER TALK
A GLORIOUS morning, washed by the tears of last
night s shower, rose like a bride upon Canema. The rain
drops sparkled and winked from leaf to leaf, or fell in
showery diamonds in the breeze. The breath of number
less roses, now in full bloom, rose in clouds to the win
dows. The breakfast- table, with its clean damask, glitter
ing silver, and fragrant coffee, received the last evening s
participants of the camp-meeting in fresh morning spirits,
ready to discuss, as an every-day affair, what, the evening
before, they had felt too deeply, perhaps, to discuss.
On the way home, they had spoken of the scenes of the
day, and wondered and speculated on the singular incident
which closed it. But of all the dark circle of woe and
crime, of all that valley of vision which was present to
the mind of him who spoke, they were as practically
ignorant as the dwellers of the curtained boudoirs of New
York are of the fearful mysteries of the Five Points.
The aristocratic nature of society at the South so com
pletely segregates people of a certain position in life from
any acquaintance with the movements of human nature in
circles below them, that the most fearful things may be
transacting in their vicinity unknown or unnoticed. The
horrors and sorrows of the slave-coffle were a sealed book
to Nina and Anne Clayton. They had scarcely dreamed
of them; and Uncle John, if he knew their existence,
took very good care to keep out of their way, as he would
turn from any other painful and disagreeable scene.
350 DEED
All of them had heard something of negro-hunters, and
regarded them as low, vulgar people, but troubled their
heads little further on the subject; so that they would
have been quite at a loss for the discovery of any national
sins that could have appropriately drawn down the denun
ciations of Heaven.
The serious thoughts and aspirations which might have
risen in any of the company, the evening before, assumed,
with everything else, quite another light under the rays of
morning.
All of us must have had experience, in our own histo
ries, of the great difference between the night and the
morning view of the same subject. What we have thought
and said in the august presence of witnessing stars, or
beneath the holy shadows of moonlight, seems with the
hot, dry light of next day s sun to take wings, and rise to
heaven with the night s clear drops. If all the prayers
and good resolutions which are laid down on sleeping pil
lows could be found there on awaking, the world would be
better than it is.
Of this Uncle John Gordon had experience, as he sat
himself down at the breakfast-table. The night before, he
realized, in some dim wise, that he, Mr. John Gordon,
was not merely a fat, elderly gentleman, in blue coat and
white vest, whose great object in existence was to eat well,
drink well, sleep well, wear clean linen, and keep out of
the way of trouble. He had within him a tumult of
yearnings and aspirings, uprisings of that great, life
long sleeper, which we call soul, and which, when it
wakes, is an awfully clamorous, craving, exacting, trouble
some inmate, and which is therefore generally put asleep
again in the shortest time, by whatever opiates may come
to hand. Last night, urged on by this troublesome guest,
stimulated by the vague power of such awful words as
judgment and eternity, he had gone out and knelt down
MORE SUMMER TALK 351
as a mourner for sin and a seeker for salvation, both words
standing for very real and awful facts; and this morning,
although it was probably a more sensible and appropriate
thing than most of the things he was in the habit of doing,
he was almost ashamed of it. The question arose, at
table, whether another excursion should be made to the
camp-ground.
"For my part," said Aunt Maria, "I hope you ll not
go again, Mr. Gordon. I think you had better keep out
of the way of such things. I really was vexed to see you
in that rabble of such very common people ! "
"You ll observe," said Uncle John, "that, when Mrs.
G. goes to heaven, she 11 notify the Lord, forthwith, that
she has only been accustomed to the most select circles,
and requests to be admitted at the front door."
"It isn t because I object to being with common peo
ple," said Anne Clayton, "that I dislike this custom of
going to the altar; but it seems to me an invasion of that
privacy and reserve which belong to our most sacred feel
ings. Besides, there are in a crowd coarse, rude, disagree
able people, with whom it isn t pleasant to come in con
tact."
"For my part," said Mrs. John Gordon, "I don t
believe in it at all! It s a mere temporary excitement.
People go and get wonderfully wrought up, come away,
and are just what they were before."
"Well," said Clayton, "isn t it better to be wrought up
once in a while, than never to have any religious feelings ?
Isn t it better to have a vivid impression of the vastness
and worth of the soul, of the power of an endless life,
for a few hours once a year, than never to feel it at all ?
The multitudes of those people, there, never hear or think
a word of these things at any other time in their lives.
For my part," he added, "I don t see why it s a thing to
be ashamed of, if Mr. Gordon or I should have knelt at
352 DEED
the altar last night, even if we do not feel like it this
morning. We are too often ashamed of our better mo
ments; I believe Protestant Christians are the only
people on earth who are ashamed of the outward recogni
tion of their religion. The Mahometan will prostrate him
self in the street, or wherever he happens to be, when his
hour for prayer comes. The Roman Catholic sailor or
soldier kneels down at the sound of the vesper bell. But
we rather take pride in having it understood that we take
our religion moderately and coolly, and that we are not
going to put ourselves much out about it."
"Well, but, brother," said Anne, "I will maintain,
still, that there is a reserve about these things which
belongs to the best Christians. And did not our Saviour
tell us that our prayers and alms should be in secret ? "
"I do not deny at all what you say, Anne," said Clay
ton; "but I think what I said is true, notwithstanding;
and both being true, of course, in some way they must be
consistent with each other."
"I think," said Nina, "the sound of the singing at
these camp-meetings is really quite spirit-stirring and excit
ing."
"Yes," said Clayton, "these wild tunes, and the hymns
with which they are associated, form a kind of forest
liturgy, in which the feelings of thousands of hearts have
been embodied. Some of the tunes seem to me to have
been caught from the song of birds, or from the rushing
of wind among the branches. They possess a peculiar
rhythmical energy, well suited to express the vehement
emotions of the masses. Did camp-meetings do no other
good than to scatter among the people these hymns and
tunes, I should consider them to be of inestimable value."
"I must say," said Anne, "I always had a prejudice
against that class both of hymns and tunes. "
"You misjudge them," said Clayton, "as you refined,
MORE SUMMER TALK 353
cultivated women always do, who are brought up in the
kid-slipper and carpet view of human life. But just
imagine only the old Greek or Roman peasantry elevated
to the level of one of these hymns. Take, for example,
a verse of one I heard them sing last night :
The earth shall be dissolved like snow,
The sun shall cease to shine,
But God, who called me here below,
Shall be forever mine.
What faith is there! What confidence in immortality!
How could a man feel it, and not be ennobled? Then,
what a rough hearty heroism was in that first hymn! It
was right manly ! "
"Ah, but," said Anne, "half the time they sing them
without the slightest perception of their meaning, or the
least idea of being influenced by them."
"And so do the worshipers in the sleepiest and most aris
tocratic churches," said Clayton. "That s nothing peculiar
to the camp- ground. But if it is true what a certain
statesman once said, Let me make the ballads of the people,
and I care not who makes their laws, it is certainly a
great gain to have such noble sentiments as many of these
hymns contain circulating freely among the people."
"What upon earth," said Uncle John, "do you suppose
that last fellow was about, up in the clouds, there 1 No
body seemed to know where he was, or who he was; and
I thought his discourse seemed to be rather an unexpected
addition. He put it into us pretty strong, I thought!
Declare, such a bundle of woes and curses I never heard
distributed! Seemed to have done up all the old prophets
into one bundle, and tumbled it down upon our heads !
Some of them were quite superstitious about it, and began
talking about warnings, and all that."
"Pooh!" said Aunt Maria, "the likelihood is that some
itinerant poor preacher has fallen upon this trick for pro-
354 DEED
ducing a sensation. There is no end to the trickeries and
the got-up scenes in these camp-meetings, just to produce
effect. If I had had a pistol, I should like to have fired
into the tree, and see whether I could n t have changed
his tune."
"It seemed to me," said Clayton, "from the little that
I did hear, that there was some method in his madness.
It was one of the most singular and impressive voices I
ever heard; and really, the enunciation of some of those
latter things was tremendous. But then, in the universal
license and general confusion of the scene, the thing was
not so much to be wondered at. It would be the most
natural thing in the world that some crazy fanatic should
be heated almost to the point of insanity by the scene, and
take this way of unburdening himself. Such excitements
most generally assume the form of denunciation."
"Well, now," said Nina, "to tell the truth, I should
like to go out again to-day. It s a lovely ride, and I like
to be in the woods. And then, I like to walk around
among the tents, and hear the people talk, and see all the
different specimens of human nature that are there. I
never saw such a gathering together in my life."
"Agreed!" said Uncle John. "I ll go with you.
After all, Clayton, here, has got the right of it, when he
says a fellow ought n t to be ashamed of his religion, such
as it is."
" Such as it is, to be sure ! " said Aunt Maria sarcasti
cally.
" Yes, I say again, such as it is ! " said Uncle John,
bracing himself. "I don t pretend it s much. We 11 all
of us bear to be a good deal better, without danger of being
translated. Now, as to this being converted, hang me if
I know how to get at it! I suppose that it is something
like an electric shock if a fellow is going to get it, he
must go up to the machine ! "
MORE SUMMER TALK 855
"Well," said Nina, "you do hear some queer things
there. Don t you remember that jollyj slashing-looking
fellow, whom they called Bill Dakin, that came up there
with his two dogs? In the afternoon, after the regular
services, we went to one of the tents where there was a
very noisy prayer-meeting going on, and there was Bill
Dakin, on his knees, with his hands clasped, and the tears
rolling down his cheeks; and Father Bonnie was praying
over him with all his might. And what do you think he
said? He said, Lord, here s Bill Dakin; he is con
verted; now take him right to heaven, now he is ready, or
he 11 be drunk again in two weeks! ;
"Well," said Anne Clayton, tossing her head indig
nantly, "that s blasphemy, in my opinion."
"Oh, perhaps not," said Clayton, "any more than the
clownish talk of any of our servants is intentional rude
ness."
"Well," said Anne, "don t you think it shows a great
want of perception ? "
"Certainly, it does," said Clayton. "It shows great
rudeness and coarseness of fibre, and is not at all to be
commended. But still we are not to judge of it by the
rules of cultivated society. In well-trained minds every
faculty keeps its due boundaries ; but in this kind of
wild-forest growth, mirthfulness will sometimes overgrow
reverence, just as the yellow jessamine will completely
smother a tree. A great many of the ordinances of the
old Mosaic dispensation were intended to counteract this
very tendency."
"Well," said Nina, "did you notice poor old Tiff, so
intent upon getting his children converted? He didn t
seem to have the least thought or reference to getting into
heaven himself. The only thing with him was to get
those children in. Tiff seems to me just like those mistle
toes that we see on the trees in the swamps. He don t
356 DEED
seem to have any root of his own; he seems to grow out
of something else. 7
"Those children are very pretty-looking, genteel chil
dren," said Anne; "and how well they were dressed! "
"My dear," said Nina, "Tiff prostrates himself at my
shrine, every time he meets me, to implore my favorable
supervision as to that point; and it really is diverting to
hear him talk. The old Caliban has an eye for color, and
a sense of what is suitable, equal to any French milliner.
I assure you, my dear, I always was reputed for having a
talent for dress; and Tiff appreciates me. Isn t it charm
ing of him 1 I declare, when I see the old creature lugging
about those children, I always think of an ugly old cactus
with its blossoms. I believe he verily thinks they belong
to him just as much. Their father is entirely dismissed
from Tiff s calculations. Evidently all he wants of him is
to keep out of the way, and let him work. The whole
burden of their education lies on his shoulders."
"For my part," said Aunt Nesbit, "I m glad you ve
faith to believe in those children. I haven t; they 11 be
sure to turn out badly you see if they don t."
"And I think," said Aunt Maria, "we have enough to
do with our own servants, without taking all these miser
able whites on our hands, too."
"I m not going to take all the whites," said Nina.
"I m going to take these children."
"I wish you joy! " said Aunt Maria.
"I wonder," said Aunt Nesbit, "if Harry is under
concern of mind. He seems to be dreadfully down, this
morning. "
" Is he 1 " said Nina. " I had n t noticed it. "
"Well," said Uncle John, "perhaps he ll get set up,
to-day who knows ? In fact, I hope I shall myself. I
tell you what it is, parson," said he, laying his hand on
Clayton s shoulder, "you should take the gig, to-day, and
MORE SUMMER TALK 357
drive this little sinner, and let me go with the ladies. Of
course you know Mrs. G-. engrosses my whole soul; but
then, there s a kind of insensible improvement that comes
from such celestial bodies as Miss Anne, here, that
oughtn t to be denied to me. The clergy ought to enu
merate female influence among the means of grace. I m
sure there s nothing builds me up like it."
Clayton, of course, assented very readily to this arrange
ment; and the party was adjusted on this basis.
"Look ye here, now, Clayton," said Uncle John, tip
ping him a sly wink, after he had handed Nina in, "you
must confess that little penitent! She wants a spiritual
director, my boy! I tell you what, Clayton, there isn t
a girl like that in North Carolina. There s blood, sir,
there. You must humor her on the bit, and give her her
head a while. Ah, but she 11 draw well at last! I always
like a creature that kicks to pieces harness, wagon, and
all, to begin with. They do the best when they are
broken in." With which profound remarks Uncle John
turned to hand Anne Clayton to the carriage.
Clayton understood too well what he was about to make
any such use of the interview as Uncle John had sug
gested. He knew perfectly that his best chance, with a
nature so restless as Nina s, was to keep up a sense of
perfect freedom in all their intercourse; and, therefore, no
grandfather could have been more collected and easy in a
tete-a-tete drive than he. The last conversation at the
camp-meeting he knew had brought them much nearer to
each other than they had ever stood before, because both
had spoken in deep earnestness of feeling of what lay deep
est in their heart; and one such moment, he well knew,
was of more binding force than a hundred nominal be
trothals.
The morning was one of those perfect ones which suc
ceed a thunder-shower in the night; when the air, cleared
358 DRED
of every gross vapor, and impregnated with moist exhala
tions from the woods, is both balmy and stimulating.
The steaming air developed to the full the balsamic proper
ties of the pine groves through which they rode; and
where the road skirted the swampy land, the light fell
slanting on the leaves of the deciduous trees, rustling and
dripping with the last night s shower. The heavens were
full of those brilliant, island-like clouds, which are said to
be a peculiarity of American skies, in their distinct relief
above the intense blue. At a long distance they caught
the sound of camp - meeting hymns. But before they
reached the ground, they saw, in more than one riotous
group, the result of too frequent an application to Abijah
Skinflint s department, and others of a similar character.
They visited the quarters of Old Tiff, whom they found
busy ironing some clothes for the baby, which he had
washed and hung out the night before. The preaching
had not yet commenced, and the party walked about among
the tents. Women were busy cooking and washing dishes
under the trees; and there was a great deal of good-natured
gossiping.
One of the most remarkable features of the day was a
sermon from Father Dickson, on the sins of the church.
It concluded with a most forcible and solemn appeal to all
on the subject of slavery. He reminded both the Metho
dists and Presbyterians that their books of discipline had
most pointedly and unequivocally condemned it ; that John
Wesley had denounced it as the sum of all villainies, and
that the general assemblies of the Presbyterian Church
had condemned it as wholly inconsistent with the religion
of Christ, with the great law which requires us to love
others as ourselves. He related the scene which he had
lately witnessed in the slave-coffle. He spoke of the hor
rors of the interstate slave-trade, and drew a touching
picture of the separation of families, and the rending of
MORE SUMMER TALK 359
all domestic and social ties, which resulted from it, and
alluding to the unknown speaker of the evening before,
told his audience that he had discerned a deep significance
in his words, and that he feared, if there was not immedi
ate repentance and reformation, the land would yet be
given up to the visitations of divine wrath. As he spoke
with feeling, he awakened feeling in return. Many were
affected even to tears; but when the sermon was over, it
seemed to melt away, as a wave flows back again into the
sea. It was far easier to join in a temporary whirlwind of
excitement than to take into consideration troublesome,
difficult, and expensive reforms.
Yet, still, it is due to the degenerate Christianity of the
slave states to say, that, during the long period in which
the church there has been corrupting itself, and lowering
its standard of right to meet a depraved institution, there
have not been wanting, from time to time, noble confes
sors, who have spoken for God and humanity. For many
years they were listened to with that kind of pensive toler
ance which men give when they acknowledge their fault
without any intention of mending. Of late years, how
ever, the lines have been drawn more sharply, and such
witnesses have spoken in peril of their lives; so that now
seldom a voice arises except in approbation of oppression.
The sermon was fruitful of much discussion in different
parts of the camp-ground; and none, perhaps, was louder
in the approbation of it than the Georgia trader, who,
seated on Abijah Skinflint s counter, declared: "That was
a parson as was a parson, and that he liked his pluck ;
and, for his part, when ministers and church-members
would give over buying, he should take up some other
trade."
"That was a very good sermon," said Nina, "and I
believe every word of it. But then, what do you suppose
we ought to do ? "
360 DEED
"Why," said Clayton, "we ought to contemplate eman
cipation as a future certainty, and prepare our people in
the shortest possible time."
This conversation took place as the party were seated at
their nooning under the trees, around an unpacked hamper
of cold provisions, which they were leisurely discussing.
"Why, bless my soul, Clayton," said Uncle John, "I
don t see the sense of such an anathema maranatha as we
got to-day. Good Lord, what earthly harm are we doing?
As to our niggers, they are better off than we are ! I say
it coolly that is, as coolly as a man can say anything
between one and two o clock in such weather as this.
Why, look at my niggers ! Do I ever have any chickens,
or eggs, or cucumbers 1 No, to be sure. All my chickens
die, and the cut-worm plays the devil with my cucumbers;
but the niggers have enough. Theirs flourish like a green
bay-tree; and of course I have to buy of them. They
raise chickens. I buy em and cook em, and then they
eat em! That s the way it goes. As to the slave-corn 1 es,
and slave-prisons, and the trade, why, that s abominable,
to be sure. But, Lord bless you, I don t want it done!
I d kick a trader off my doorsteps forthwith, though I m
all eaten up with woolly-heads, like locusts. I don t like
such sermons, for my part."
"Well," said Aunt Nesbit, "our Mr. Titmarsh preached
quite another way when I attended church in E . He
proved that slavery was a Scriptural institution, and estab
lished by God."
"I should think anybody s common sense would show
that a thing which works so poorly for both sides couldn t
be from God," said Nina.
"Who is Mr. Titmarsh? " said Clayton to her, aside.
"Oh, one of Aunt Nesbit s favorites, and one of my
aversions! He isn t a man he s nothing but a theo
logical dictionary with a cravat on! I can t bear him!"
MORE SUMMER TALK 361
"Now, people may talk as much as they please of the
educated democracy of the North," said Uncle John. " 1
don t like em. What do workingmen want of education?
Ruins em! I ve heard of their learned blacksmiths
bothering around, neglecting their work, to make speeches.
I don t like such things. It raises them above their
sphere. And there s nothing going on up in those north
ern states but a constant confusion and hubbub. All sorts
of heresies come from the North, and infidelity, and the
Lord knows what! We have peace, down here. To be
sure, our poor whites are in a devil of a fix; but we
haven t got em under yet. We shall get em in, one of
these days, with our niggers, and then all will be content
ment."
"Yes," said Nina, "there s Uncle John s view of the
millennium ! "
"To be sure," said Uncle John, "the lower classes want
governing they want care; that s what they want. And
all they need to know is, what the Episcopal Church cate
chism says, to learn and labor truly to get their own
living in the state wherein it has pleased God to call
them. That makes a well-behaved lower class, and a
handsome, gentlemanly, orderly state of society. The
upper classes ought to be instructed in their duties. They
ought to be considerate and condescending, and all that.
That s my view of society."
"Then you are no republican," said Clayton.
"Bless you, yes I am! I believe in the equality of
gentlemen, and the equal rights of well-bred people.
That s my idea of a republic."
Clayton, Nina, and Anne laughed.
"Now," said Nina, "to see uncle so jovial and free,
and Hail fellow well met with everybody, you d think
he was the greatest democrat that ever walked. But, you
see, it s only because he s so immeasurably certain of his
362 DEED
superior position that s all. He isn t afraid to kneel
at the altar with Bill Dakin, or Jim Sykes, because he s
so sure that his position can t be compromised."
"Besides that, chick," said Uncle John, "I have the
sense to know that, in my Maker s presence, all human
differences are child s play." And Uncle John spoke with
a momentary solemnity which was heartfelt.
It was agreed by the party that they would not stay to
attend the evening exercises. The novelty of the effect
was over, and Aunt Nesbit spoke of the bad effects of fall
ing dew and night air. Accordingly, as soon as the air
was sufficiently cooled to make riding practicable, the party
were again on their way home.
The woodland path was streaked with green and golden
bands of light thrown between the tree-trunks across the
way, and the trees reverberated with the evening song of
birds. Nina and Clayton naturally fell into a quiet and
subdued train of conversation.
"It is strange," said Nina, "these talkings and search-
ings about religion. Now, there are people who have
something they call religion, which I don t think does
them any good. It isn t of any use it doesn t make
them better and it makes them very disagreeable. I
would rather be as I am than to have what they call reli
gion. But then, there are others that have something
which I know is religion; something that I know I have
not; something that I d give all the world to have, and
don t know how to get. Now, there was Livy Ray
you ought to have seen Livy Kay there was something
so superior about her; and what was extraordinary is,
that she was good without being stupid. What do you
suppose the reason is that good people are generally so
stupid 1 "
"A great deal," said Clayton, "is called goodness
which is nothing but want of force. A person is said to
MOKE SUMMER TALK 363
have self-government simply because he has nothing to
govern. They talk about self-denial, when their desires
are so weak that one course is about as easy to them as
another. Such people easily fall into a religious routine,
get by heart a set of phrases, and make, as you say, very
stupid, good people. 77
"Now, Livy," said Nina, "was remarkable. She had
that kind of education that they give girls in New Eng
land, stronger and more like a man s than ours. She
could read Greek and Latin as easily as she could French
and Italian. She was keen, shrewd, and witty, and had
a kind of wild grace about her, like these grapevines; yet
she was so strong ! Well, do you know, I almost worship
Livy ? And I think, the little while she was in our
school, she did me more good than all the teachers and
studying put together. Why, it does one good to know
that such people are possible. Don t you think it does?"
"Yes," said Clayton; "all the good in the world is
done by the personality of people. Now, in books, it
isn t so much what you learn from them, as the contact
it gives you with the personality of the writer, that im
proves you. A real book always makes you feel that there
is more in the writer than anything that he has said."
"That," said Nina eagerly, "is just the way I feel
toward Livy. She seems to me like a mine. When I
was with her the longest, I always felt as if I had n t half
seen her. She always made me hungry to know her
more. I mean to read you some of her letters, some time.
She writes beautiful letters; and I appreciate that very
much because I can t do it. I can talk better than I can
write. Somehow my ideas will not take a course down
through my arms; they always will run up to my mouth.
But you ought to see Livy ; such people always make me
very discontented with myself. I don t know what the reason
is that I like to see superior people, and things, when they
364 DRED
always make me realize what a poor concern I am. Now,
the first time I heard Jenny Lind sing, it spoiled all my
music and all my songs for me, turned them all to trash
at one stroke, and yet I liked it. But I don t seem to
have got any further in goodness than just dissatisfaction
with myself."
"Well," said Clayton, "there s where the foundation-
stone of all excellence is laid. The very first blessing
that Christ pronounced was on those who were poor in
spirit. The indispensable condition to all progress in art,
science, or religion, is to feel that we have nothing."
"Do you know," said Nina, after something of a pause,
"that I can t help wondering what you took up with me
for? I have thought very often that you ought to have
Livy Ray."
"Well, I m much obliged to you," said Clayton, "for
your consideration in providing for me. But supposing
I should prefer my own choice, after all? We men are
a little willful, sometimes, like you of the gentler sex."
"Well," said Nina, "if you will have the bad taste,
then, to insist on liking me, let me warn you that you
don t know what you are about. I m a very unformed,
unpractical person. I don t keep accounts. I m nothing
at all of a housekeeper. I shall leave open drawers, and
scatter papers, and forget the day of the month, and tear
the newspaper, and do everything else that is wicked; and
then, one of these days, it will be, Nina, why haven t
you done this? and why haven t you done that? and
why don t you do the other? and why do you do some
thing else? Ah, I ve heard you men talk before! And
then, you see, I sha n t like it, and I sha n t behave well.
Haven t the least hope of it; won t ever engage to! So,
now, won t you take warning? "
"No," said Clayton, looking at her with a curious kind
of smile, "I don t think I shall."
MOEE SUMMER TALK 365
"How dreadfully positive and self-willed men are!"
said Nina, drawing a long breath, and pretending to laugh.
"There s so little of that in you ladies," said Clayton,
"we have to do it for both."
"So, then," said Nina, looking round with a half-laugh
and half -blush, "you will persist? "
"Yes, you wicked little witch!" said Clayton, "since
you challenge me, I will." And as he spoke, he passed
his arm round Nina firmly, and fixed his eyes on hers.
"Come, now, my little Baltimore oriole, have I caught
you ? " And
But we are making our chapter too long.
CHAPTER XXVI
MILLY S RETURN
THE visit of Clayton and his sister, like all other plea
sant things, had its end. Clayton was called back to his
law office and books, and Anne went to make some sum
mer visits previous to her going to Clayton s plantation of
Magnolia Grove, where she was to superintend his various
schemes for the improvement of his negroes.
Although it was gravely insisted to the last that there
was no engagement between Nina and Clayton, it became
evident enough to all parties that only the name was want
ing. The warmest possible friendship existed between
Nina and Anne; and notwithstanding that Nina almost
every day said something which crossed Anne s nicely
adjusted views, and notwithstanding Anne had a gentle
infusion of that disposition to sermonize which often exists
in very excellent young ladies, still the two got on excel
lently well together.
It is to be confessed that, the week after they left,
Nina was rather restless and lonesome, and troubled to
pass her time. An incident, which we shall relate, how
ever, gave her something to think of, and opens a new
page in our story.
While sitting on the veranda, after breakfast, her atten
tion was called by various exclamations from the negro
department, on the right side of the mansion; and looking
out, to her great surprise, she saw Milly standing amid a
group, who were surrounding her with eager demonstra
tions. Immediately she ran down the steps to inquire
MILLY S RETURN 367
what it might mean. Approaching nearer, she was some
what startled to see that her old friend had her head bound
up and her arm in a sling; and as she came towards her,
she observed that she seemed to walk with difficulty, with
a gait quite different from her usual firm, hilarious tread.
" Why, Milly ! " she said, running towards her with
eagerness, " what is the matter ? "
"Not much, chile, I reckon, now I s got home!" said
Milly.
"Well, but what s the matter with your arm? "
"No great! Dat ar man shot me; but, praise de Lord,
he didn t kill me! I don t owe him no grudge; but I
thought it wasn t right and fit that I should be treated so;
and so I just put ! "
"Why, come in the house this minute!" said Nina,
laying hold of her friend, and drawing her towards the
steps. "It s a shame! Come in, Milly, come in! That
man! I knew he wasn t to be trusted. So, this is the
good place he found for you, is it ? "
" Jes so," said Tomtit, who, at the head of a dark stream
of young juveniles, came after, with a towel hanging over
one arm, and a knife half cleaned in his hand, while Eose
and Old Hundred, and several others, followed to the
veranda.
"Laws-a-me!" said Aunt Eose, "just to think on t!
Dat s what tis for old f am lies to hire der niggers out to
common people ! "
"Well," said Old Hundred, "Milly was allers too high
feelin ; held her head up too much. Ain t noways sur
prised at it ! "
"Oh, go long, you old hominy-beetle!" said Aunt
Eose. "Don t know nobody dat holds up der head higher
nor you does ! "
Nina, after having dismissed the special train of the
juveniles and servants, began to examine into the condition
368 DEED
of her friend. The arm had evidently been grazed by a
bullet, producing somewhat of a deep flesh wound, which
had been aggravated by the heat of the weather and the
fatigue which she had undergone. On removing the band
age round her head, a number of deep and severe flesh
cuts were perceived.
"What s all this?" said Nina.
"It s whar he hit me over de head! He was in drink,
chile; he didn t well know what he was bout!"
"What an abominable shame!" said Nina. "Look
here," turning round to Aunt Nesbit, "see what comes of
hiring Milly out ! "
"I am sure I don t know what s to be done!" said
Aunt Nesbit pitifully.
"Done! why, of course, these are to be bandaged and
put up, in the first place," said Nina, bustling about with
great promptness, tearing off bandages, and ringing for
warm water. "Aunt Milly, I ll do them up for you
myself. I m a pretty good nurse, when I set about it."
"Bless you, chile, but it seems good to get home mong
friends ! "
"Yes; and you won t go away again in a hurry!" said
Nina, as she proceeded rapidly with her undertaking, wash
ing and bandaging the wound. "There, now," she said,
"you look something like; and now you shall lie down in
my room, and take a little rest ! "
"Thank ye, honey, chile, but I ll go to my own room;
pears like it s more homelike," said Milly. And Nina,
with her usual energy, waited on her there, closed the
blinds, and spread a shawl over her after she had lain
down, and after charging her two or three times to go to
sleep and be quiet, she left her. She could hardly wait
to have her get through her nap, so full was she of the
matter, and so interested to learn the particulars of her
story.
MILLY S RETURN 369
" A pretty business, indeed ! " she said to Aunt Nesbit.
"We ll prosecute those people, and make them pay dear
for it."
"That will be a great expense," said Aunt Nesbit
apprehensively, "besides the loss of her time."
"Well," said Nina, "I shall write to Clayton about it
directly. I know he 11 feel just as I do. He understands
the law, and all about those things, and he 11 know how
to manage it."
"Everything will make expense!" said Aunt Nesbit in
a deplorable voice. "I m sure misfortunes never come
single! Now, if she don t go back, I shall lose her wages!
And here s all the expenses of a lawsuit, besides! I think
she ought to have been more careful."
"Why, aunt, for pity s sake, you don t pretend that
you wish Milly to go back ? "
"Oh no, of course I don t; but then, it s a pity. It
will be a great loss, every way."
"Why, aunt, you really talk as if you didn t think of
anything but your loss. You don t seem to think any
thing about what Milly has had to suffer ! "
"Why, of course, I feel sorry for that," said Aunt
Nesbit. "I wonder if she is going to be laid up long. I
wish, on the whole, I had hired out one that was n t quite
so useful to me."
"Now, if that isn t just like her!" said Nina in an
indignant tone, as she flung out of the room, and went to
look softly in at Milly s door. "Never can see, hear, or
think of anything but herself, no matter what happens!
I wonder why Milly couldn t have belonged to me! "
After two or three hours sleep, Milly came out of her
room, seeming much better. A perfectly vigorous physical
system, and vital powers all moving in the finest order,
enabled her to endure much more than ordinary; and Nina
soon became satisfied that no material injury had been sus-
VOL. I.
370 DEED
tained, and that in a few days she would be quite recov
ered.
"And now, Milly, do pray tell me where you have
been," said Nina, "and what this is all about."
"Why, you see, honey, I was hired to Mr. Barker, and
dey said he was a mighty nice man ; and so he was,
honey, most times; but den, you see, honey, dere s some
folks dere s two men in em, one is a good one and
t oder is very bad. Well, dis yer was just dat sort. You
see, honey, I wouldn t go for to say dat he got drunk;
but he was dat sort dat if he took ever so little, it made
him kind o ugly and cross, and so dere wa n t no suiting
him. Well, his wife, she was pretty far; and so he was,
too, cept in spots. He was one of dese yer streaked men,
dat has drefful ugly streaks; and some of dem times de
Lord only knows what he won t do! Well, you see,
honey, I thought I was getting along right well, at first,
and I was mighty pleased. But dere was one day he came
home, and peared like dere couldn t nobody suit him.
Well, you see, dey had a gal dere, and she had a chile,
and dis yer chile was a little thing. It got playing with
a little burnt stick, and it blacked one of his clean shirts,
I had just hung up, for I d been ironing, you see.
Just den he came along, and you never heerd a man go
on so! I s heerd bad talk afore, but I never heerd no
sich! He swore he d kill de chile; and I thought my
soul he would! De por little thing run behind me, and
I just kep him off on it, cause I knowed he wa n t fit to
touch it; and den he turned on me, and he got a cowhide,
and he beat me over de head. I thought my soul he d
kill me ! But I got to de door, and shut de chile out, and
Hannah, she took it and run with it. But, bless you, it
peared like he was a tiger, screeching, and foaming, and
beating me! I broke away from him, and run. He just
caught de rifle, he always kep one loaded, and shot at
371
me, and de ball just struck my arm, and glanced off again.
Bless de Lord, it did n t break it. Dat ar was a mighty
close run, I can tell you! But I did run, cause, thinks
I, dere ain t no safety for me in dat ar house; and, you
see, I run till I got to de bush, and den I got to whar
dere was some free colored folks, and dey did it up, and
kep me a day or two. Den I started and came home, just
as you told me to."
"Well," said Nina, "you did well to come home; and
I tell you what, I m going to have that man prosecuted! "
"Oh, laws, no, Miss Nina! don t you goes doing nothing
to him! His wife is a mighty nice woman, and peared
like he didn t rightly know what he was bout."
"Yes, but, Milly, you ought to be willing, because it
may make him more careful with other people."
"Laws, Miss Nina, why, dere is some sense in dat; but
I wouldn t do it as bearing malice."
"Not at all," said Nina. "I shall write to Mr. Clay
ton, and take his advice about it."
"He s a good man," said Milly. "He won t say
nothing dat ain t right. I spect dat will do very well, dat
ar way."
"Yes," said Nina, "such people must be taught that
the law will take hold of them. That will bring them to
their bearings ! "
Nina went immediately to her room, and dispatched a
long letter to Clayton, full of all the particulars, and beg
ging his immediate assistance.
Our readers, those who have been in similar circum
stances, will not wonder that Clayton saw in this letter
an immediate call of duty to go to Canema. In fact, as
soon as the letter could go to him, and he could perform
a rapid horseback journey, he was once more a member of
the domestic circle. He entered upon the case with great
confidence and enthusiasm.
372 DEED
"It is a debt which we owe," he said, "to the character
of our state, and to the purity of our institutions, to prove
the efficiency of the law in behalf of that class of our pop
ulation whose helplessness places them more particularly
under our protection. They are to us in the condition of
children under age ; and any violation of their rights should
be more particularly attended to."
He went immediately to the neighboring town, where
Milly had been employed, and found, fortunately, that the
principal facts had been subject to the inspection of white
witnesses. A woman, who had been hired to do some
sewing, had been in the next room during the whole time;
and Milly s flight from the house, and the man s firing
after her, had been observed by some workmen in the
neighborhood. Everything, therefore, promised well, and
the suit was entered forthwith.
CHAPTER XXVII
THE TRIAL
"WELL, now," said Frank Russel to one or two law
yers with whom he was sitting, in a side room of the court
house at E , "look out for breakers! Clayton has
mounted his war-horse, and is coming upon us, now, like
leviathan from the rushes."
"Clayton is a good fellow," said one of them. "I like
him, though he doesn t talk much."
" Good 1 " said Russel, taking his cigar from his mouth ;
"why, as the backwoodsmen say, he ain t nothing else!
He is a great seventy-four pounder, charged to the muzzle
with goodness! But, if he should be once fired off, I m
afraid he 11 carry everything out of the world with him.
Because, you see, abstract goodness does n t suit our present
mortal condition. But it is a perfect godsend that he has
such a case as this to manage for his maiden plea, because
it just falls in with his heroic turn. Why, when I heard
of it, I assure you I bestirred myself. I went about, and
got Smithers and Jones and Peters to put off suits, so as
to give him fair field and full play. Eor, if he succeeds in
this, it may give him so good a conceit of the law, that
he will keep on with it."
"Why," said the other, "don t he like the law?
What s the matter with the law?"
"Oh, nothing, only Clayton has got one of those ethereal
stomachs that rise against almost everything in this world.
Now, there is n t more than one case in a dozen that he 11
undertake. He sticks and catches just like an old bureau
374 DEED
drawer. Some conscientious crick in his back is always
taking him at a critical moment, and so he is knocked up
for actual work. But this defending a slave-woman will
suit him to a T."
" She is a nice creature, is n t she 1 " said one of them.
"And belongs to a good old family," said another.
"Yes," said the third, "and I understand his lady-love
has something to do with the case."
"Yes," said Russel, "to be sure she has. The woman
belongs to a family connection of hers, I m told. Miss
Gordon is a spicy little puss one that would be apt to
resent anything of that sort ; and the Gordons are a very
influential family. He is sure to get the case, though I m
not clear that the law is on his side, by any means."
"Not? " said the other barrister, who went by the name
of Will Jones.
"No," said Bussel. "In fact, I m pretty clear it isn t.
But that will make no odds. When Clayton is thoroughly
waked up, he is a whole team, I can tell you. He 11 take
jury and judge along with him, fast enough."
"I wonder," said one, "that Barker didn t compound
the matter."
"Oh, Barker is one of the stubbed sort. You know
these middling kind of people always have a spite against
old families. He makes fight because it is the Gordons,
that s all. And there comes in his republicanism. He
is n t going to be whipped in by the Gordons. Barker has
got Scotch blood in him, and he 11 hang on to the case
like death."
"Clayton will make a good speech," said Jones.
"Speech? that he will!" said Eussel. "Bless me, I
could lay off a good speech on it, myself. Because, you
see, it really was quite an outrage; and the woman is a
presentable creature. And then, there s the humane
dodge; that can be taken, beside all the chivalry part of
THE TRIAL 375
defending the helpless, and all that sort of thing. I
wouldn t ask for a better thing to work up into a speech.
But Clayton will do it better yet, because he is actually
sincere in it. And after all s said and done, there s a
good deal in that. When a fellow speaks in solemn ear
nest, he gives a kind of weight that you can t easily get
at any other way."
"Well, but," said one, "I don t understand you, Rus-
sel, why you think the law isn t on Clayton s side. I m
sure it s a very clear case of terrible abuse."
"Oh, certainly it is," said Russel, "and the man is a
dolt, and a brute beast, and ought to be shot, and so forth;
but then, he hasn t really exceeded his legal limits, be
cause, you see, the law gives to the hirer all the rights of
the master. There s no getting away from that, in my
opinion. Now, any master might have done all that, and
nobody could have done anything about it. They do do
it, for that matter, if they re bad enough, and nobody
thinks of touching them."
"Well, I say," said Jones, "Russel, don t you think
that s too bad?"
"Laws, yes, man; but the world is full of things that
are too bad. It s a bad kind of a place," said Russel, as
he lit another cigar.
"Well, how do you think Clayton is going to succeed,"
said Jones, "if the law is so clearly against him? "
"Oh, bless you, you don t know Clayton. He is a
glorious mystifier. In the first place, he mystifies himself.
And now, you mark me. When a powerful fellow mysti
fies himself, so that he really gets himself thoroughly on
to his own side, there s nobody he can t mystify. I speak
it in sober sadness, Jones, that the want of this faculty is
a great hindrance to me in a certain class of cases. You
see I can put on the pathetic and heroic, after a sort; but
I don t take myself along with me I don t really believe
376 DRED
myself. There s the trouble. It s this power of self-
mystification that makes what you call earnest men. If
men saw the real bread and butter and green cheese of
life, as I see it, the hard, dry, primitive facts, they
couldn t raise such commotions as they do."
"B-ussel, it always makes me uncomfortable to hear you
talk. It seems as if you didn t believe in anything!"
"Oh yes, I do," said Russel; "I believe in the multi
plication table, and several other things of that nature at
the beginning of the arithmetic; and also, that the wicked
will do wickedly. But as to Clayton s splendid abstrac
tions, I only wish him joy of them. But then, I shall
believe him while I hear him talk; so will you; so will
all the rest of us. That s the fun of it. But the thing
will be just where it was before, and I shall find it so
when I wake up to-morrow morning. It s a pity such
fellows as Clayton couldn t be used as we use big guns.
He is death on anything he fires at; and if he only would
let me load and point him, he and I together would make
a firm that would sweep the land. But here he comes,
upon my word.
"Hallo, Clayton, all ready?"
"Yes," said Clayton, " 8 I believe so. When will the
case be called ? "
"To-day, I m pretty sure," said Eussel.
Clayton was destined to have something of an audience
in his first plea; for the Gordons being an influential and
a largely connected family, there was quite an interest
excited among them in the affair. Clayton also had many
warm personal friends, and his father, mother, and sister
were to be present; for though residing in a different part
of the state, they were at this time on a visit in the vicin
ity of the town of E .
There is something in the first essay of a young man,
in any profession, like the first launching of a ship, which
THE TRIAL 377
has a never-ceasing hold on human sympathies. Clayton s
father, mother, and sister, with Nina, at the time of the
dialogue we have given, were sitting together in the parlor
of a friend s house in E , discussing the same event.
"I am sure that he will get the case," said Anne Clay
ton, with the confidence of a generous woman and warm
hearted sister. "He has been showing me the course of
his argument, and it is perfectly irresistible. Has he said
anything to you about it, father 1 "
Judge Clayton had been walking up and down the room,
with his hands behind him, with his usual air of consider
ate gravity. Stopping short at Anne s question, he said,
"Edward s mind and mine work so differently, that I have
not thought best to embarrass him by any conference on
the subject. I consider the case an unfortunate one, and
would rather he could have had some other."
"Why," said Anne eagerly, "don t you think he ll
gain it ? "
"Not if the case goes according to law," said Judge
Clayton. "But then, Edward has a great deal of power
of eloquence, and a good deal of skill in making a diversion
from the main point; so that, perhaps, he may get the
case. "
"Why," said Nina, "I thought cases were always
decided according to law ! What else do they make laws
for ? "
"You are very innocent, my child," said Judge Clayton.
"But, father, the proof of the outrage is most abundant.
Nobody could pretend to justify it."
"Nobody will, child. But that s nothing to the case.
The simple point is, did the man exceed his legal power?
It s my impression he did not."
" Father, what a horrible doctrine ! " said Anne.
"I simply speak of what is," said Judge Clayton. "I
don t pretend to justify it. But Edward has great power
378 DEED
of exciting the feelings, and under the influence of his
eloquence the case may go the other way, and humanity
triumph at the expense of law."
Clayton s plea came on in the afternoon, and justified
the expectations of his friends. His personal presence was
good, his voice melodious, and his elocution fine. But
what impressed his auditors, perhaps, more than these,
was a certain elevation and clearness in the moral atmos
phere around him, a gravity and earnestness of convic
tion which gave a secret power to all he said. He took
up the doctrine of the dependent relations of life, and of
those rules by which they should be guided and restrained;
and showed that while absolute power seems to be a neces
sary condition of many relations of life, both reason and
common sense dictate certain limits to it. "The law guar
antees to the parent, the guardian, and the master, the right
of enforcing obedience by chastisement; and the reason
for it is, that the subject being supposed to be imperfectly
developed, his good will, on the whole, be better consulted
by allowing to his lawful guardian this power.
"The good of the subject," he said, "is understood to
be the foundation of the right; but when chastisement is
inflicted without just cause, and in a manner so inconsider
ate arid brutal as to endanger the safety and well-being of
the subject, the great foundation principle of the law is
violated. The act becomes perfectly lawless, and as inca
pable of legal defense as it is abhorrent to every sentiment
of humanity and justice.
"He should endeavor to show," he said, "by full testi
mony, that the case in question was one of this sort."
In examining witnesses Clayton showed great dignity
and acuteness, and as the feeling of the court was already
prepossessed in his favor, the cause evidently gathered
strength as it went on. The testimony showed, in the
most conclusive manner, the general excellence of Milly s
THE TKIAL 379
character, and the utter brutality of the outrage which had
been committed upon her. In his concluding remarks,
Clayton addressed the jury in a tone of great elevation and
solemnity, on the duty of those to whom is intrusted the
guardianship of the helpless.
"No obligation," he said, "can be stronger to an honor
able mind than the obligation of entire dependence. The
fact that a human being has no refuge from our power, no
appeal from our decisions, so far from leading to careless
security, is one of the strongest possible motives to caution
and to most exact care. The African race," he said, "had
been bitter sufferers. Their history had been one of
wrong and cruelty, painful to every honorable mind. We
of the present day, who sustain the relation of slave
holder," he said, "receive from the hands of our fathers
an awful trust. Irresponsible power is the greatest trial
of humanity, and if we do not strictly guard our own moral
purity in the use of it, we shall degenerate into despots
and tyrants. No consideration can justify us in holding
this people in slavery an hour, unless we make this slavery
a guardian relation, in which our superior strength and
intelligence are made the protector and educator of their
simplicity and weakness.
"The eyes of the world are fastened upon us," he said.
" Our continuing in this position at all is, in many quar
ters, matter of severe animadversion. Let us therefore
show, by the spirit in which we administer our laws, by
the impartiality with which we protect their rights, that
the master of the helpless African is his best and truest
friend."
It was evident, as Clayton spoke, that he carried the
whole of his audience with him. The counsel on the
other side felt himself much straitened. There is very
little possibility of eloquence in defending a manifest act
of tyranny and cruelty ; and a man speaks, also, at great
380 DEED
disadvantage, who not only is faint-hearted in his own
cause, bat feels the force of the whole surrounding atmos
phere against him.
In fact, the result was, that the judge charged the jury,
if they found the chastisement to have been disproportion
ate and cruel, to give verdict for the plaintiff. The jury,
with little discussion, gave it unanimously, accordingly,
and so Clayton s first cause was won.
If ever a woman feels proud of her lover, it is when she
sees him as a successful public speaker; and Nina, when
the case was over, stood half-laughing, half-blushing, in a
circle of ladies, who alternately congratulated and rallied
her on Clayton s triumph.
"Ah," said Frank Eussel, "we understand the magic.
The knight always fights well when his lady-love looks
down! Miss Gordon must have the credit of this. She
took all the strength out of the other side, like the
mountain of loadstone, that used to draw all the nails out
of the ship."
"I am glad," said Judge Clayton, as he walked home
with his wife, "I am very glad that Edward has met with
such success. His nature is so fastidious that I have had
my fears that he would not adhere to the law. There are
many things in it, I grant, which would naturally offend
a fastidious mind, and one which, like his, is always ideal
izing life."
"He has established a noble principle," said Mrs. Clay
ton.
"I wish he had," said the judge. "It would be a very
ungrateful task, but I could have shattered his argument
all to pieces."
"Don t tell him so!" said Mrs. Clayton apprehen
sively ; " let him have the comfort of it. "
"Certainly I shall. Edward is a good fellow, and I
hope, after a while, he 11 draw well in the harness."
THE TRIAL 381
Meanwhile, Frank Bussel and Will Jones were walking
along in another direction.
"Didn t I tell you so? " said Kussel. "You see, Clay
ton run Bedford down, horse and foot, and made us all as
solemn as a preparatory lecture."
"But he had a good argument," said Jones.
"To be sure he had I never knew him to want that.
He builds up splendid arguments, always, and the only
thing to be said of him, after it s all over, is, it isn t so;
it s no such thing. Barker is terrible wroth, I can assure
you. He swears he 11 appeal the case. But that s no
matter. Clayton has had his day all the same. He is
evidently waked up. Oh, he has no more objection to a
little popularity than you and I have, now; and if we
could humor him along, as we would a trout, we should
have him a firstrate lawyer, one of these days. Did you
see Miss Gordon while he was pleading 1 By George ! she
looked so handsome I was sorry I hadn t taken her my
self!"
"Is she that dashing little flirting Miss Gordon that I
heard of in New York 1 "
"The very same."
" How came she to take a fancy to him ? "
"She? How do I know? She s as full of streaks as
a tulip; and her liking for him is one of them. Did you
notice her, Will ? scarf flying one way, and little curls
and pennants and streamers and veil the other! And
then, those eyes! She s alive, every inch of her! She
puts me in mind of a sweet-brier bush, winking and blink
ing full of dewdrops, full of roses, and brisk little thorns,
beside! Ah, she 11 keep him awake! "
CHAPTER XXVIII
MAGNOLIA GROVE
JUDGE CLAYTON was not mistaken in supposing that
his son would contemplate the issue of the case he had
defended with satisfaction. As we have already intimated,
Clayton was somewhat averse to the practice of the law.
Regard for the feelings of his father had led him to resolve
that he would at least give it a fair trial. His own turn
of mind would have led him to some work of more imme
diate and practical philanthropy. He would have much
preferred to retire to his own estate, and devote himself,
with his sister, to the education of his servants. But he
felt that he could not, with due regard to his father s feel
ings, do this until he had given professional life a fair
trial.
After the scene of the trial which we have described, he
returned to his business, and Anne solicited Nina to accom
pany her for a few weeks to their plantation at Magnolia
Grove, whither, as in duty bound, we may follow her.
Our readers will therefore be pleased to find themselves
transported to the shady side of a veranda belonging to
Clayton s establishment at Magnolia Grove. The place
derived its name from a group of these beautiful trees, in
the centre of which the house was situated. It was a
long, low cottage, surrounded by deep verandas, festooned
with an exuberance of those climbing plants which are so
splendid in the southern latitude. The range of apart
ments which opened on the veranda where Anne and Nina
were sitting was darkened to exclude the flies; but the
MAGNOLIA GROVE 383
doors, standing open, gave picture- like gleams of the inte
rior. The white, matted floors, light bamboo furniture,
couches covered with glazed white linen, and the large
vases of roses disposed here and there, where the light
would fall upon them, presented a background of inviting
coolness.
It was early in the morning, and the two ladies were
enjoying the luxury of a tete-a-tete breakfast before the
sun had yet dried the heavy dews which give such fresh
ness to the morning air. A small table which stood be
tween them was spread with choice fruits, arranged on
dishes in green leaves; a pitcher of iced milk, and a
delicate little tete-a-tete coffee-service, dispensing the per
fume of the most fragrant coffee. Nor were they wanting
those small delicate biscuits, and some of those curious
forms of corn- bread, of the manufacture of which every
southern cook is so justly proud. Nor should we omit the
central vase of monthly roses, of every shade of color, the
daily arrangement of which was the special delight of
Anne s brown little waiting-maid Lettice.
Anne Clayton, in a fresh white morning-wrapper, with
her pure, healthy complexion, fine teeth, and frank, beam
ing smile, looked like a queenly damask rose. A queen
she really was on her own plantation, reigning by the
strongest of all powers, that of love. The African race
have large ideality and veneration; and in no drawing-
room could Anne s beauty and grace, her fine manners and
carriage, secure a more appreciating and unlimited admira
tion and devotion. The negro race, with many of the
faults of children, unite many of their most amiable quali
ties, in the simplicity and confidingness with which they
yield themselves up in admiration of a superior friend.
Nina had been there but a day, yet could not fail to
read in the eyes of all how absolute was the reign which
Anne held over their affections.
384 DEED
"How delightful the smell of this magnolia blossom!"
said Nina. "Oh, I m glad that you waked me so early,
Anne ! "
"Yes," said Anne, "in this climate early rising becomes
a necessary of life to those who mean to have any real,
positive pleasure in it, and I m one of the sort that must
have positive pleasures. Merely negative rest, lassitude,
and dreaming are not enough for me. I want to feel that
I m alive, and that I accomplish something."
"Yes, I see," said Nina, "you are not nominally like
me, but really housekeeper. What wonderful skill you
seem to have ! Is it possible that you keep nothing locked
up here 1 "
"No," said Anne, "nothing. I am released from the
power of the keys, thank fortune! When I first came
here, everybody told me it was sheer madness to try such
a thing. But I told them that I was determined to do it,
and Edward upheld me in it: and you can see how well
I ve succeeded."
"Indeed," said Nina, "you must have magic power, for
I never saw a household move on so harmoniously. All
your servants seem to think and contrive and take an
interest in what they are doing. How did you begin?
What did you do ? "
"Well," said Anne, "I ll tell you the history of the
plantation. In the first place, it belonged to mamma s
uncle; and not to spoil a story for a relation s sake, I
must say he was a dissipated, unprincipled man. He
lived a perfectly heathen life here, in the most shocking
way you can imagine; and so the poor creatures who were
under him were worse heathen than he. He lived with
a quadroon woman, who was violent tempered, and when
angry ferociously cruel; and so the servants were con
stantly passing from the extreme of indulgence to the
extreme of cruelty. You can scarce have an idea of the
MAGNOLIA GROVE 385
state we found them in. My heart almost failed me; but
Edward said, Don t give it up, Anne; try the good that
is in them. Well, I confess, it seemed very much as it
seemed to me when I was once at a water-cure establish
ment, patients would be brought in languid, pale, cold,
half dead, and it appeared as if it would kill them to apply
cold water; but, somehow or other, there was vital power
in them that reacted under it. Well, just so it was with
my servants. I called them all together, and I said to
them, Now, people have always said that you are the
greatest thieves in the world; that there is no managing
you except by locking up everything from you. But I
think differently. I have an idea that you can be trusted.
I have been telling people that they don t know how much
good there is in you; and now, just to show them what
you can do, I m going to begin and leave the closets and
doors, and everything, unlocked, and I shall not watch
you. You can take my things, if you choose; and if,
after a time, I find that you can t be trusted, I shall go
back to the old way. Well, my dear, I wouldn t have
believed myself that the thing would have answered so
well. In the first place, approbativeness is a stronger
principle with the African race than almost any other;
they like to be thought well of. Immediately there was
the greatest spirit in the house, for the poor creatures,
having suddenly made the discovery that somebody thought
they were to be trusted, were very anxious to keep up the
reputation. The elder ones watched the younger; and,
in fact, my dear, I had very little trouble. The children
at first troubled me going into my store-closet and getting
the cake, notwithstanding very spirited government on the
part of the mammies. So I called my family in session
again, and said that their conduct had confirmed my good
opinion; that I always knew they could be trusted, and
that my friends were astonished to hear how well they
VOL. I.
386 DEED
did; but that I had observed that some of the children
probably had taken my cake. Now, you know, said I,
that I have no objection to your having some. If any of
you would enjoy a piece of cake, I shall be happy to give
it to them, but it is not agreeable to have things in my
closet fingered over I shall therefore set a plate of cake
out every day, and anybody that wishes to take some I
hope will take that. Well, my dear, my plate of cake
stood there and dried. You won t believe me, but in fact
it wasn t touched."
"Well," said Nina, "I shouldn t think you could have
had our Tomtit here ! Why, really this goes beyond the
virtue of white children. 7
"My dear, it isn t such a luxury to white children to
be thought well of, and have a character. You must take
that into account. It was a taste of a new kind of plea
sure, made attractive by its novelty."
"Yes," said Nina, "I have something in me which
makes me feel this would be the right way. I know it
would be with me. There s nothing like confidence. If
a person trusts me, I m bound."
"Yet," said Anne, "I can t get the ladies of my acquaint
ance to believe in it. They see how I get along, but
they insist upon it that it s some secret magic, or art, of
mine. "
"Well, it is so," said Nina. "Such things are just
like the divining rod; they won t work in every hand; it
takes a real, generous, warm-hearted woman, like you,
Anne. But, could you carry your system through your
plantation, as well as your house ? "
"The field-hands were more difficult to manage, on some
accounts," said Anne, "but the same principle prevailed
with them. Edward tried all he could to awaken self-
respect. Now, I counseled that we should endeavor to
form some decent habits before we built the cabins over.
MAGNOLIA GROVE 387
I told him they could not appreciate cleanliness and order.
Very likely they cannot, he said, but we are not to sup
pose it ; and he gave orders immediately for that pretty
row of cottages you saw down at the quarters. He put
up a large bathing-establishment. Yet he did not enforce
at first personal cleanliness by strict rules. Those who
began to improve first were encouraged and noticed; and
as they found this a passport to favor, the thing took rap
idly. It required a great while to teach them how to be
consistently orderly and cleanly even after the first desire
had been awakened, because it is n t every one that likes
neatness and order who has the forethought and skill
to secure it. But there has been a steady progress in
these respects. One curious peculiarity of Edward s man
agement gives rise to a good many droll scenes. He has
instituted a sort of jury trial among them. There are
certain rules for the order and well-being of the planta
tion, which all agree to abide by; and in all offenses the
man is tried by a jury of his peers. Mr. Smith, our agent,
says that these scenes are sometimes very diverting, but
on the whole there s a good deal of shrewdness and sense
manifested; but he says that, in general, they incline much
more to severity than he would. You see, the poor crea
tures have been so barbarized by the way they have been
treated in past times, that it has made them hard and
harsh. I assure you, Nina, I never appreciated the wis
dom of God, in the laws which he made for the Jews in
the wilderness, as I have since I ve tried the experiment
myself of trying to bring a set of slaves out of barbarism.
Now, this that I m telling you is the fairest side of the
story. I can t begin to tell you the thousand difficulties
and trials which we have encountered in it. Sometimes
I ve been almost worn out and discouraged. But then,
I think, if there is a missionary work in this world, it is
this."
388 DEED
" And what do your neighbors think about it ? " said
Nina.
"Well," said Anne, "they are all very polite, well-bred
people, the families with whom we associate; and such
people, of course, would never think of interfering, or
expressing a difference of opinion, in any very open way;
but I have the impression that they regard it with suspi
cion. They sometimes let fall words which make me
think they do. It s a way of proceeding which very few
would adopt, because it is not a money-making operation,
by any means. The plantation barely pays for itself,
because Edward makes that quite a secondary considera
tion. The thing which excites the most murmuring is our
teaching them to read. I teach the children myself two
hours every day, because I think this would be less likely
to be an offense than if I should hire a teacher. Mr.
Smith teaches any of the grown men who are willing to
take the trouble to learn. Any man who performs a cer
tain amount of labor can secure to himself two or three
hours a day to spend as he chooses ; and many do choose
to learn. Some of the men and the women have become
quite good readers, and Clayton is constantly sending
books for them. This, I m afraid, gives great offense.
It is against the law to do it; but as unjust laws are
sometimes lived down, we thought we would test the prac
ticability of doing this. There was some complaint made
of our servants, because they have not the servile, subdued
air which commonly marks the slave, but look, speak, and
act, as if they respected themselves. I m sometimes afraid
that we shall have trouble ; but then, I hope for the best. "
"What does Mr. Clayton expect to be the end of all
this?" said Nina.
"Why," said Anne, "I think Edward has an idea that
one of these days they may be emancipated on the soil,
just as the serfs were in England. It looks to me rather
MAGNOLIA GROVE 389
hopeless, I must say; but he says the best way is for some
one to begin and set an example of what ought to be done,
and he hopes that in time it will be generally followed.
It would, if all men were like him ; but there lies my doubt.
The number of those who would pursue such a disinterested
course is very small. But who comes there 1 Upon my
word, if there is n t my particular admirer, Mr. Brad-
shaw ! "
As Anne said this, a very gentlemanly middle-aged man
came up on horseback, on the carriage-drive which passed
in front of the veranda. He bore in his hand a large
bunch of different-colored roses; and alighting, and deliv
ering his horse to his servant, came up the steps and pre
sented it to Anne.
"There," said he, "are the firstfruits of my roses, in
the garden that I started in Rosedale."
"Beautiful," said Anne, taking them. "Allow me to
present to you Miss Gordon."
"Miss Gordon, your most obedient,^ 7 said Mr. Brad-
shaw, bowing obsequiously.
"You are just in season, Mr. Bradshaw," said Anne,
"for I m sure you couldn t have had your breakfast before
you started; so sit down and help us with ours."
"Thank you, Miss Anne," said Mr. Bradshaw, "the
offer is too tempting to be refused." And he soon estab
lished himself as a third at the little table, and made him
self very sociable.
"Well, Miss Anne, how do all your plans proceed all
your benevolences and cares 1 I hope your angel ministra
tions don t exhaust you."
"Not at all, Mr. Bradshaw; do I look like it? "
"No, indeed! but such energy is perfectly astonishing
to us all."
Nina s practiced eye observed that Mr. Bradshaw had
that particular nervous, restless air which belongs to a
390 DEED
man who is charged with a particular message, and finds
himself unexpectedly blockaded by the presence of a third
person. So, after breakfast, exclaiming that she had left
her crochet-needle in her apartment, and resisting Anne s
offer to send a servant for it, by declaring that nobody
could find it but herself, she left the veranda. Mr. Brad-
shaw had been an old family friend for many years, and
stood with Anne almost on the easy footing of a relation,
which gave him the liberty of speaking with freedom.
The moment the door of the parlor was closed after Nina,
he drew a chair near to Anne, and sat down, with the
unmistakable air of a man who is going into a confidential
communication.
"The fact is, my dear Miss Clayton," he said, "I have
something on my mind that I want to tell you; and I
hope you will think my long friendship for the family a
sufficient warrant for my speaking on matters which really
belong chiefly to yourself. The fact is, my dear Miss
Clayton, I was at ^a small dinner-party of gentlemen, the
other day, at Colonel Grandon s. There was a little select
set there, you know, the Howards, and the Elliotts, and
the Howlands, and so on, and the conversation happened
to turn upon your brother. Now, there was the very
greatest respect for him; they seemed to have the highest
possible regard for his motives; but still they felt that he
was going on a very dangerous course."
" Dangerous ? " said Anne a little startled.
"Yes, really dangerous; and I think so myself, though
I, perhaps, don t feel as strongly as some do."
"Keally," said Anne, "I m quite at a loss!"
"My dear Miss Anne, it s these improvements, you
know, which you are making. Don t misapprehend me!
Admirable, very admirable, in themselves, done from
the most charming of motives, Miss Anne, but danger
ous, dangerous ! "
MAGNOLIA GROVE 391
The solemn, mysterious manner in which these last
words were pronounced made Anne laugh; but when she
saw the expression of real concern on the face of her good
friend, she checked herself, and said,
"Pray, explain yourself. I don t understand you."
"Why, Miss Anne, it s just here. We appreciate your
humanity, and your self-denial, and your indulgence to
your servants. Everybody is of opinion that it s admira
ble. You are really quite a model for us all. But when
it comes to teaching them to read and write, Miss Anne,"
he said, lowering his voice, "I think you don t consider
what a dangerous weapon you are putting into their hands.
The knowledge will spread on to the other plantations;
bright niggers will pick it up ; for the very fellows who are
most dangerous are the very ones who will be sure to learn. "
"What if they should? " said Anne.
"Why, my dear Miss Anne," said he, lowering his
voice, "the facilities that it will afford them for combina
tions, for insurrections! You see, Miss Anne, I read a
story once of a man who made a cork leg with such won
derful accuracy that it would walk of itself, and when he
got it on he couldn t stop its walking it walked him to
death actually did ! Walked him up hill and down
dale, till the poor man fell down exhausted; and then it
ran off with his body. And it s running with its skeleton
to this day, I believe."
And good-natured Mr. Bradshaw conceived such a ridic
ulous idea, at this stage of his narrative, that he leaned
back in his chair and laughed heartily, wiping his perspir
ing face with a cambric pocket-handkerchief.
"Really, Mr. Bradshaw, it s a very amusing idea, but
I don t see the analogy," said Anne.
"Why, don t you see 1 ? You begin teaching niggers,
and having reading and writing, and all these things, going
on, and they begin to open their eyes, and look round and
392 DEED
think; and they are having opinions of their own, they
won t take yours; and they want to rise directly. And if
they can t rise, why, they are all discontented; and there s
the what s-his-naine to pay with them ! Then come con
spiracies and insurrections, no matter how well you treat
them; and now, we South Carolinians have had experience
in this matter. You must excuse us, but it is a terrible
subject with us. Why, the leaders of that conspiracy, all
of them, were fellows who could read and write, and who
had nothing in the world to wish for, in the way of com
fort, treated with every consideration by their masters. It
is a most melancholy chapter in human nature. It shows
that there is no trust to be placed in them. And now,
the best way to get along with negroes, in my opinion, is
to make them happy; give them plenty to eat and drink
and wear, and keep them amused and excited, and don t
work them too hard. I think it s a great deal better than
this kind of exciting instruction. Mind," he said, seeing
that Anne was going to interrupt him, "mind, now, I d
have religious instruction, of course. Now, this system
of oral instruction, teaching them hymns and passages of
Scripture suited to their peculiar condition, it s just the
thing; it isn t so liable to these dangers. I hope you ll
excuse me, Miss Anne, but the gentlemen really feel very
serious about these things; they find it s affecting their
own negroes. You know, somehow everything goes round
from one plantation to another; and one of them said that
he had a very smart man who is married to one of your
women, and he actually found him with a spelling-book,
sitting out under a tree. He said if the man had had a
rifle he couldn t have been more alarmed; because the
man was just one of those sharp, resolute fellows, that, if
he knew how to read and write, there s no knowing what
he would do. Well, now, you see how it is. He takes
the spelling-book away, and he tells him he will give him
MAGNOLIA GROVE 393
nine-and- thirty if he ever finds him with it again. What a
the consequence? Why, the consequence is, the man
sulks and gets ugly, and he has to sell him. That s the
way it s operating."
"Well, then," said Anne, looking somewhat puzzled,
"I will strictly forbid our people to allow spelling-books
to go out of their hands, or to communicate any of these
things off of the plantation."
"Oh, I tell you, Miss Anne, you can t do it. You
don t know the passion in human nature for anything that
is forbidden. Now, I believe it s more that than love of
reading. You can t shut up such an experiment as you
are making here. It s just like a fire. It will blaze; it
will catch on all the plantations round; and I assure you
it s matter of life and death with us. You smile, Miss
Anne, but it s so."
"Really, my dear Mr. Bradshaw, you could not have
addressed me on a more unpleasant subject. I am sorry
to excite the apprehension of our neighbors ; but "
"Give me leave to remind you, also, Miss Anne, that
the teaching of slaves to read and write is an offense to
which a severe penalty is attached by the laws."
"I thought," said Anne, "that such barbarous laws were
a dead letter in a Christian community, and that the best
tribute I could pay to its Christianity was practically to
disregard them."
"By no means, Miss Anne, by no means! Why, look
at us here in South Carolina. The negroes are three to
one over the whites now. Will it do to give them the
further advantages of education and facilities of communi
cation? You see, at once, it will not. Now, well-bred
people, of course, are extremely averse to mingling in the
affairs of other families; and had you merely taught a few
favorites, in a private way, as I believe people now and
then do, it wouldn t have seemed so bad; but to have
394 DKED
regular provision for teaching school, and school hours
I think, Miss Anne, you 11 find it will result in unpleasant
consequences. "
"Yes, I fancy," said Anne, raising herself up, and
slightly coloring, "that I see myself in the penitentiary
for the sin and crime of teaching children to read! I
think, Mr. Bradshaw, it is time such laws were disre
garded. Is not that the only way in which many laws are
repealed? Society outgrows them, people disregard them,
and so they fall away, like the calyx from some of my
flowers. Come, now, Mr. Bradshaw, come with me to
my school. I m going to call it together," said Anne,
rising, and beginning to go down the veranda steps.
"Certainly, my dear friend, you ought not to judge with
out seeing. Wait a moment, till I call Miss Gordon."
And Anne stepped across the shady parlor, and in a few
moments reappeared with Nina, both arrayed in white
cape-bonnets. They crossed to the right of the house, to
a small cluster of neat cottages, each one of which had its
little vegetable garden, and its plot in front, carefully
tended, with flowers. They passed onward into a grove
of magnolias which skirted the back of the house, till they
came to a little building, with the external appearance of
a small Grecian temple, the pillars of which Avere festooned
with jessamine.
"Pray what pretty little place is this?" said Mr. Brad
shaw.
"This is my schoolroom," said Anne.
Mr. Bradshaw repressed a whistle of astonishment; but
the emotion was plainly legible in his face, and Anne said,
laughing,
"A lady s schoolroom, you know, should be lady-like.
Besides, I wish to inspire ideas of taste, refinement, and
self-respect in these children. I wish learning to be asso
ciated with the idea of elegance and beauty."
MAGNOLIA GROVE 395
They ascended the steps, and entered a large room,
surrounded on three sides by blackboards. The floor was
covered with white matting, and the walls hung with very
pretty pictures of French lithographs, tastefully colored.
In some places cards were hung up, bearing quotations of
Scripture. There were rows of neat desks, before each of
which there was a little chair.
Anne stepped to the door and rang a bell, and in about
ten minutes the patter of innumerable little feet was heard
ascending the steps, and presently they came streaming in
all ages, from four or five to fifteen and from the ebony
complexion of the negro, with its closely curling wool, to
the rich brown cheek of the quadroon, with melancholy,
lustrous eyes and waving hair. All were dressed alike,
in a neat uniform of some kind of blue stuff, with white
capes and aprons.
They filed in to the tune of one of those marked rhyth
mical melodies which characterize the negro music, and
moving in exact time to the singing, assumed their seats,
which were arranged with regard to their age and size.
As soon as they were seated, Anne, after a moment s
pause, clapped her hands, and the whole school commenced
a morning hymn, in four parts, which was sung so beauti
fully that Mr. Bradshaw, quite overpowered, stood with
tears in his eyes. Anne nodded at Nina, and cast on him
a satisfied glance.
After that there was a rapid review of the classes.
There was reading, spelling, writing on the blackboard,
and the smaller ones were formed in groups in two adjoin
ing apartments, under the care of some of the older girls.
Anne walked about superintending the whole; and Nina,
who saw the scene for the first time, could not repress her
exclamation of delight. The scholars were evidently ani
mated by the presence of company, and anxious to do
credit to the school and teacher, and the two hours passed
396 DEED
rapidly away. Anne exhibited to Mr. Bradshaw speci
mens of the proficiency of her scholars in handwriting,
and the drawing of maps, and even the copying of small
lithograph cards, which contained a series of simple draw
ing-patterns. Mr. Bradshaw seemed filled with astonish
ment.
" Pon my word," said he, "these are surprising! Miss
Anne, you are a veritable magician a worker of miracles !
You must have found Aaron s rod, again! My dear
madam, you run the risk of being burned for a witch ! "
"Very few, Mr. Bradshaw, know how much of beauty
lies sealed up in this neglected race," said Anne, with
enthusiasm.
As they were walking back to the house, Mr. Bradshaw
fell a little behind, and his face wore a thoughtful and
almost sad expression.
"Well," said Anne, looking round, "a penny for your
thoughts ! "
"Oh, I see, Miss Anne, you are for pursuing your
advantage. I see triumph in your eyes. But yet," he
added, "after all this display, the capability of your chil
dren makes me feel sad. To what end is it? What pur
pose will it serve, except to unfit them for their inevitable
condition to make them discontented and unhappy 1 "
"Well," replied Anne, "there ought to be no inevitable
condition that makes it necessary to dwarf a human mind.
Any condition which makes a full development of the
powers that God has given us a misfortune cannot, cer
tainly, be a healthy one cannot be right. If a mind
will grow and rise, make way and let it. Make room for
it, and cut down everything that stands in the way ! "
"That s terribly leveling doctrine, Miss Anne."
"Let it level, then!" said Anne. "I don t care! I
come from the old Virginia Cavalier blood, and am not
afraid of anything."
MAGNOLIA GROVE 397
"But, Miss Anne, how do you account for it that the
best-educated and best-treated slaves in fact, as you say,
the most perfectly developed human beings were those
who got up the insurrection in Charleston ? "
"How do you account for it," said Anne, "that the best-
developed and finest specimens of men have been those that
have got up insurrections in Italy, Austria, and Hungary ? "
"Well, you admit, then," said Mr. Bradshaw, "that if
you say A in this matter, you ve got to say B? "
"Certainly," said Anne, "and when the time comes to
say B I m ready to say it. I admit, Mr. Bradshaw, it s a
very dangerous thing to get up steam, if you don t intend
to let the boat go. But when the steam is high enough,
let her go, say I."
"Yes, but, Miss Anne, other people don t want to say
so. The fact is, we are not all of us ready to let the boat
go. It s got all our property in it all we have to live
on. If you are willing yourself, so far as your people are
concerned, they 11 inevitably want liberty, and you say
you 11 be ready to give it to them; but your fires will raise
a steam on our plantations, and we must shut down these
escape- valves. Don t you see 1 ? Now, for my part, I ve
been perfectly charmed with this school of yours; but,
after all, I can t help inquiring whereto it will grow."
"Well, Mr. Bradshaw," said Anne, "I m obliged to
you for the frankness of this conversation. It s very
friendly and sincere. I think, however, I shall continue
to compliment the good sense and gallantry of this state,
by ignoring its unworthy and unchristian laws. I will
endeavor, nevertheless, to be more careful and guarded as to
the manner of what I do ; but if I should be put into the
penitentiary, Mr. Bradshaw, I hope you 11 call on me."
"Miss Anne, I beg ten thousand pardons for that unfor
tunate allusion."
"I think," said Anne, "I shall impose it as a penance
398 DEED
upon you to stay and spend the day with us, and then I 11
show you my rose-garden. I have great counsel to hold
with you on the training of a certain pillar-rose. You see,
my design is to get you involved in my treason. You ve
already come into complicity with it, by visiting my school. "
"Thank you, Miss Anne; I should be only too much
honored to be your abettor in any treason you might medi
tate. But, really, I in a most unlucky dog! Think of
my having four bachelor friends engaged to dine with me,
and so being obliged to decline your tempting offer ! In fact,
I must take horse before the sun gets any hotter."
"There he goes, for a good-hearted creature as he is!"
said Anne.
"Do you know," said Nina, laughing, "that I thought
that he was some poor desperate mortal who was on the
verge of a proposal, this morning, and I ran away like a
good girl to give him a fair field ? "
"Child," said Anne, "you are altogether too late in the
day. Mr. Bradshaw and I walked that little figure some
time ago, and now he is one of the most convenient and
agreeable of friends."
"Anne, why in the world don t you get in love with
somebody 1 " said Nina.
"My dear, I think there was something or other left out
when I was made up," said Anne, laughing, "but I never
had much of a fancy for the lords of creation. They do
tolerably well till they come to be lovers; but then they
are perfectly unbearable. Lions in love, my dear, don t
appear to advantage, you know. I can t marry papa or
Edward, and they have spoiled me for everybody else.
Besides, I m happy, and what do I w r ant of any of
them? Can t there be now and then a woman sufficient
to herself? But, Nina, dear, I m sorry that our affairs
here are giving offense and making uneasiness."
"For my part," said Nina, "I should go right on. I
MAGNOLIA GEOVE 399
have noticed that people try all they can to stop a person
who is taking an unusual course; and when they are per
fectly certain that they can t stop him, then they turn
round and fall in with him; and I think that will be the
case with you."
"They certainly will have an opportunity of trying,"
said Anne. "But there is Dulcimer coming up the avenue
with the letter-bag. Now, child, I don t believe you
appreciate half my excellence, when you consider that I
used to have all these letters that fall to you every mail."
At this moment Dulcimer rode up to the veranda steps,
and deposited the letter-bag in Anne s hands.
"What an odd name you have given him! " said Nina,
" and what a comical-looking fellow he is ! He has a sort
of waggish air that reminds me of a crow."
"Oh, Dulcimer don t belong to our regime," said Anne.
"He was the prime minister and favorite under the for
mer reign, a sort of licensed court jester, and to this
day he hardly knows how to do anything but sing and
dance; and so brother, who is for allowing the largest
liberty to everybody, imposes on him only such general and
light tasks as suit his roving nature. But there ! " she
said throwing a letter on Nina s lap, and at the same time
breaking the seal of one directed to herself. "Ah, I
thought so ! You see, puss, Edward has some law business
that takes him to this part of the state forthwith. Was
ever such convenient law business 1 We may look for him
to-night. Now there will be rejoicings! How now, Dul
cimer 1 ? I thought you had gone," she said, looking up,
and observing that personage still lingering in the shade
of a tulip-tree near the veranda.
"Please, Miss Anne, is Master Clayton coming home
to-night 1 "
"Yes, Dulcimer; so now go and spread the news; for
that s what you want, I know."
400 DEED
And Dulcimer, needing no second suggestion, was out of
sight in the shrubbery in a few moments.
"Now, I ll wager," said Anne, "that creature will get
up something or other extraordinary for this evening."
"Such as what? " said Nina.
"Well, he is something of a troubadour, and I shouldn t
wonder if he should be cudgeling his brain at this moment
for a song. We shall have some kind of operatic perform
ance, you may be sure."
CHAPTER XXIX
THE TROUBADOUR
ABOUT five o clock in the evening Nina and Anne
amused themselves with setting a fancy tea-table on the
veranda. Nina had gathered a quantity of the leaves of
the live-oak which she possessed a particular faculty of
plaiting in long, flat wreaths, and with these she garlanded
the social round table, after it had been draped in its snowy
damask, while Anne was busy arranging fruit in dishes
with vine leaves.
"Lettice will be in despair to-night," said Anne, looking
up and smiling at a neatly dressed brown mulatto girl, who
stood looking on with large lustrous eyes; "her occupa
tion s gone! "
"Oh, Lettice must allow me to show my accomplish
ments," said Nina. "There are some household arts that I
have quite a talent for. If I had lived in what s-its-
name there, that they used to tell about in old times
Arcadia I should have made a good housekeeper; for
nothing suits me better than making wreaths, and arranging
bouquets. My nature is dressy. I want to dress every
thing. I want to dress tables and dress vases, and adorn
dishes, and dress handsome women, Anne! So look out
for yourself, for when I have done crowning the table, I
shall crown you ! "
As Nina talked, she was flitting hither and thither,
taking up and laying down flowers and leaves, shaking
out long sprays, and fluttering from place to place, like a
bird.
VOL. I.
402 DEED
"It s a pity," said Anne, "that life can t be all Arca
dia!"
"Oh yes!" said Nina. "When I was a child, I re
member there was an old torn translation of a book called
Gesner s Idyls, that used to lie about the house; and I
used to read in it most charming little stories about hand
some shepherds, dressed in white, playing on silver and
ivory flutes; and shepherdesses, with azure mantles and
floating hair; and people living on such delightful things
as cool curds and milk and grapes and strawberries and
peaches ; and there was no labor, and no trouble, and no
dirt, and no care. Everybody lived like the flowers and
the birds, growing and singing and being beautiful. Ah,
dear, I have never got over wanting it since! Why
couldn t it be so?"
"It s a thousand pities!" said Anne. "But what
constant fight we have to maintain for order and beauty ! "
"Yes," said Nina; "and, what seems worse, beauty
itself becomes dirt in a day. Now, these roses that we
are arranging, to-morrow or next day we shall call them
litter, and wish somebody would sweep them out of the
way. But I never want to be the one to do that. I want
some one to carry away the withered flowers and wash the
soiled vases; but I want to be the one to cut the fresh
roses every day. If I were in an association, I should take
that for my part. I d arrange all their flowers through the
establishment, but I should stipulate expressly that I
should do no clearing up."
"Well," said Anne, "it s really a mystery to me what a
constant downward tendency there is to everything how
everything is gravitating back as you may say into dis
order. Now, I think a cleanly, sweet, tasteful house, and,
above all, table, are among the highest works of art. And
yet, how everything attacks you when you set out to attain
it flies, cockroaches, ants, mosquitoes ! And then, it
THE TROUBADOUR 403
seems to be the fate of all human beings, that they are
constantly wearing out and disarranging and destroying all
that is about them."
"Yes," said Nina, "I couldn t help thinking of that
when we were at the camp-meeting. The first day I was
perfectly charmed. Everything was so fresh, so cool, so
dewy and sweet; but by the end of the second day they
had thrown egg-shells and pea-pods and melon-rinds and
all sorts of abominations around among the tents, and it
was really shocking to contemplate."
" How disgusting ! " said Anne.
"Now, I m one of that sort," said Nina, "that love
order dearly, but don t want the trouble of it myself. My
prime minister, Aunt Katy, thanks to mamma, is an excel
lent hand to keep it, and I encourage her in it with all my
heart; so that any part of the house where I don t go
much is in beautiful order. But, bless me, I should have
to be made over again before I could do like Aunt Nesbit!
Did you ever see her take a pair of gloves or a collar out
of a drawer? She gets up, and walks so moderately
across the room, takes the key from under the napkin on
the right-hand side of the bureau, and unlocks the drawer
as gravely as though she was going to offer a sacrifice.
Then, if her gloves are at the back side, underneath some
thing else, she takes out one thing after another so moder
ately ; and then, when the gloves or collar are found, lays
everything back exactly where it was before, locks the
drawer, and puts the key back under the towel. And all
this she d do if anybody was dying, and she had to go for
the doctor! The consequence is, that her room, her
drawers, and everything are a standing sermon to me.
But I think I ve got to be a much calmer person than I
am before this will come to pass in my case. I m always
in such a breeze and flutter ! I fly to my drawer and scat
ter things into little whirlwinds; ribbons, scarf, flowers
404 DEED
everything flies out in a perfect rainbow. It seems as if
I should die if I didn t get the thing I wanted that min
ute; and after two or three such attacks on a drawer, then
comes repentance, and a long time of rolling up and arrang
ing, and talking to little naughty Nina, who always prom
ises herself to keep better order in future. But, my dear,
she doesn t do it, I m sorry to say, as yet, though perhaps
there are hopes of her in future. Tell me, Anne, you are
not stiff and poky, and yet you seem to be endowed with
the gift of order. How did it come about ? "
"It was not natural to me, I assure you," said Anne.
"It was a second nature, drilled into me by mamma. 7
" Mamma ! ah, indeed ! " said Nina, giving a sigh.
"Then you are very happy! But, come now, Lettice,
I ve done with all these; take them away. My tea-table
has risen out of them like the world out of chaos," she
said, as she swept together a heap of rejected vines, leaves,
and flowers. "Ah! I always have a repenting turn, when
I ve done arranging vases, to think I ve picked so many
more than were necessary ! The poor flowers droop their
leaves and look at me reproachfully, as if they said, You
did n t want us why could n t you have left us alone ? :
"Oh," said Anne, "Lettice will relieve you of that.
She has great talents in the floral line, and out of these she
will arrange quantities of bouquets," she said, as Lettice,
blushing perceptibly through her brown skin, stooped and
swept up the rejected flowers into her apron.
" What have we here ? " said Anne, as Dulcimer, attired
with most unusual care, came bowing up the steps, present
ing a note on a waiter. " Dear me, how stylish ! gilt-edged
paper smelling of myrrh and ambergris ! " she continued, as
she broke the seal. "What s this?
" The Magnolia Grove troubadours request the presence
of Mr. and Miss Clayton and Miss Gordon at an operatic
THE TROUBADOUR 405
performance, which will be given this evening at eight
o clock, in the grove.
"Very well done! I fancy some of my scholars have
been busy with the writing. Dulcimer, we shall be happy
to come."
" Where upon earth did he pick up those phrases ? " said
Nina, when he had departed.
"Oh," said Anne, "I told you that he was prime favor
ite of the former proprietor, who used to take him with him
wherever he traveled, as people sometimes will a pet mon
key; and, I dare say, he has lounged round the lobbies of
many an opera house. I told you that he was going to
get up something."
"What a delightful creature he must be! " said Nina.
"Perhaps so, to you," said Anne; "but he is a trouble
some person to manage. He is as wholly destitute of any
moral organs as a jackdaw. One sometimes questions
whether these creatures have any more than a reflected
mimicry of a human soul such as the German stories
imagine in kobolds and water- spirits. All I can see in
Dulcimer is a kind of fun-loving animal. He don t seem
to have any moral nature."
"Perhaps," said Nina, "his moral nature is something
like the cypress-vine seeds which I planted three months
ago, and which have just come up."
" Well, I believe Edward expects to see it along, one of
these days," said Anne. "His faith in human nature is
unbounded. I think it one of his foibles, for my part;
but yet I try to have hopes of Dulcimer, that some day or
other he will have some glimmering perceptions of the
difference between a lie and the truth, and between his
own things and other people s. At present, he is the most
lawless marauder on the place. He has been so used to
having his wit to cover a multitude of sins, that it s dim-
406 DEED
cult for a scolding to make any impression on him. But,
hark! isn t that a horse 1 ? Somebody is coming up the
avenue. "
Both listened.
"There are two," said Nina.
Just at this instant Clayton emerged to view accompanied
by another rider, who, on nearer view, turned out to be
Frank Russel. At the same instant, the sound of violins
and banjos was heard, and, to Anne s surprise, a gayly
dressed procession of servants and children began to file
out from the grove, headed by Dulcimer and several of his
associates, playing and singing.
"There," said Anne, "didn t I tell you so. There s
the beginning of Dulcimer s operations."
The air was one of those inexpressibly odd ones whose
sharp, metallic accuracy of rhythm seems to mark the de
light which the negro race feel in that particular element of
music. The words, as usual, amounted to very little.
Nina and Anne could hear,
" Oh, I see de mas r a-comin up de track,
His horse s heels do clatter, with a clack, clack, clack! "
The idea conveyed in these lines being still further carried
out by the regular clapping of hands at every accented
note, while every voice joined in the chorus:
" Sing, boys, sing; de mas r is come!
Give three cheers for de good man at home!
Ho! he! ho! Hurra! hurra!"
Clayton acknowledged the compliment as he came up, by
bowing from his horse; and the procession arranged itself
in a kind of lane, through which he and his companion
rode up to the veranda.
" Pon my word," said Frank Russel, "I wasn t pre
pared for such a demonstration. Quite a presidential re
ception ! "
When Clayton came to the steps and dismounted, a dozen
THE TROUBADOUR 407
sprang eagerly forward to take his horse, and in the crowd
ing round for a word of recognition the order of the pro
cession was entirely broken. After many kind words, and
inquiries in every direction for a few moments, the people
quietly retired, leaving their master to his own enjoyments.
"You really have made quite a triumphal entry," said
Nina.
"Dulcimer always exhausts himself on all such occa
sions," said Anne, "so that he isn t capable of any further
virtue for two or three weeks."
" Well, take him while he is in flower, then ! " said E.US-
sel. "But how perfectly cool and inviting you look.
Really, quite idyllic ! We must certainly have got into a
fairy queen s castle! "
"But you must show us somewhere to shake the dust
off of our feet, " said Clayton.
"Yes," said Anne, "there s Aunt Praw waiting to show
you your room. Go and make yourselves as fascinating as
you can."
In a little while the gentlemen returned, in fresh white
linen suits, and the business of the tea-table proceeded with
alacrity.
"Well, now," said Anne, after tea, looking at her watch,
"I must inform the company that we are all engaged to the
opera this evening."
"Yes," said Nina, "the Magnolia Grove Opera House is
to be opened, and the Magnolia Troubadour Troupe to ap
pear for the first time."
At this moment they were surprised by the appearance,
below the veranda, of Dulcimer, with three of his colored
associates, all wearing white ribbons in their buttonholes,
and carrying white wands tied with satin ribbon, and
gravely arranging themselves two and two on each side of
the steps.
"Why, Dulcimer, what s this?" said Clayton.
408 DEED
Dulcimer bowed with the gravity of a raven, and an
nounced that the committee had come to wait on the gen
tlemen and ladies to their seats.
"Oh," said Anne, "we were not prepared for our part
of the play ! "
"What a pity I did n t bring my opera-hat ! " said Nina.
"Never mind," she said, snatching a spray of multiflora
rose, "this will do." And she gave it one twist round her
head, and her toilet was complete.
" Pon my word, that s soon done! " said Frank Russel,
as he watched the coronet of half-opened buds and roses.
"Yes," said Nina. "Sit down, Anne; I forgot your
crown. There, wait a moment; let me turn this leaf a
little, and weave these buds in here so. Now you are a
Baltimore belle, to be sure ! Now for the procession. "
The opera house for the evening was an open space in
the grove behind the house. Lamps had been hung up in
the trees, twinkling on the glossy foliage. A sort of booth
or arbor was built of flowers and leaves at one end, to
which the party were marshaled in great state. Between
two magnolia-trees a white curtain was hung up; and the
moment the family party made their appearance, a chorus
of voices from behind the scenes began an animated song
of welcome.
As soon as the party was seated the curtain rose, and
the chorus, consisting of about thirty of the best singers,
males and females, came forward, dressed in their best holi
day costume, singing, and keeping step as they sung, and
bearing in their hands bouquets, which, as they marched
round the circle, they threw at the feet of the company.
A wreath of orange-blossoms was significantly directed at
Nina, and fell right into her lap.
"These people seem to have had their eyes open. Com
ing events cast their shadows before ! " said Russel.
After walking around, the chorus seated themselves at the
THE TROUBADOUR 409
side of the area, and the space behind was filled up with a
dense sea of heads all the servants and plantation hands.
"I declare," said Russel, looking round on the crowd
of dark faces, "this sable cloud is turning a silver lining
with a witness ! How neat and pretty that row of children
looks ! " And as they spoke, a procession of the children
of Anne s school came filing round in the same manner that
the other had done, singing their school songs, and casting
flowers before the company. After this, they seated
themselves on low seats in front of all the others.
Dulcimer and four of his companions now came into the
centre.
"There," said Anne, "Dulcimer is going to be the
centre-piece. He is the troubadour."
Dulcimer, in fact, commenced a kind of recitative, to
the tune "Mas r ; s in the cold, cold ground." After sing
ing a few lines, the quartette took up the chorus, and their
voices were really magnificent.
"Why," said Nina, "it seems to me they are beginning
in a very doleful way."
"Oh," said Anne, "wait a minute. This is the old
mas r, I fancy. We shall soon hear the tune changed."
And accordingly, Dulcimer, striking into a new tune,
began to rehearse the coming in of a new master.
"There," said Anne, "now for a catalogue of Edward s
virtues! They must all be got in, rhyme or no rhyme."
Dulcimer kept on rehearsing. Every four lines the quar
tette struck in with the chorus, which was then repeated
by the whole company, clapping their hands and stamping
their feet to the time, with great vivacity.
"Now, Anne, is coming your turn," said Nina, as Dul
cimer launched out, in most high-flown strains, on the
beauty of Miss Anne.
"Yes," said Clayton, "the catalogue of your virtues will
be something extensive."
410 DRED
"I shall escape, at any rate," said Nina.
"Don t you be too sure," said Anne. "Dulcimer has
had his eye on you ever since you ve been here."
And true enough, after the next stanza, Dulcimer assumed
a peculiarly meaning expression.
"There," said Anne, "do see the wretch flirting himself
out like a saucy crow! It s coming! Now look out,
Nina!"
With a waggish expression from the corner of his down
cast eyes, he sung :
" Oh, mas r is often absent do you know where he goes ?
He goes to North Carolina, for de North Carolina rose."
"There you are!" said Frank Eussel. "Do you see
the grin going round 1 What a lot of ivory ! They are
coming in this chorus, strong ! "
And the whole assembly, with great animation, poured
out on the chorus :
" Oh, de North Carolina rose!
Oh, de North Carolina rose!
We wish good luck to mas r,
With de North Carolina rose ! "
This chorus was repeated with enthusiasm, clapping of
hands, and laughing.
" I think the North Carolina rose ought to rise ! " said
Kussel.
"Oh, hush!" said Anne; "Dulcimer hasn t done yet."
Assuming an attitude, Dulcimer turned and sang to one
of his associates in the quartette :
" Oh, I see two stars arising,
Up in de shady skies! "
To which the other responded, with animation :
" No, boy, you are mistaken;
T is de light of her fair eyes! "
"That s thorough, at any rate! " said Eussel.
While Dulcimer went on :
"Oh, I see two roses blowing,
Togeder on one bed! "
THE TROUBADOUR 411
And the other responded :
"No, boy, you are mistaken;
Dem are her cheeks so red! "
"And they are getting redder!" said Anne, tapping
Nina with her fan. "Dulcimer is evidently laying out his
strength upon you, Nina ! "
Dulcimer went on singing :
" Oh, I see a grapevine running,
With its curly rings, up dere ! "
And the response :
"No, boy, you are mistaken;
Tis her rings of curly hair! "
And the quartette here struck up :
" Oh, she walks on de veranda,
And she laughs out of de door,
And she dances like de sunshine
Across de parlor floor.
Her little feet, dey patter,
Like de rain upon de flowers ;
And her laugh is like sweet waters,
Through all de summer hours! "
"Dulcimer has had help from some of the muses along
there ! " said Clayton, looking at Anne.
"Hush!" said Anne; "hear the chorus."
"Oh, de North Carolina rose!
Oh, de North Carolina rose!
Oh, plant by our veranda
De North Carolina rose! "
This chorus was repeated with three times three, and
the whole assembly broke into a general laugh, when the
performers bowed and retired, and the white sheet, which
was fastened by a pulley to the limb of a tree, was let down
again.
"Come, now, Anne, confess that wasn t all Dulcimer s
work ! " said Clayton.
"Well, to tell the truth," said Anne, " twas got up
between him and Lettice, who has a natural turn for versi-
412 DEED
fying, quite extraordinary. If I chose to encourage and
push her on, she might turn out a second Phillis Wheat-
ley."
Dulcimer and his coadjutors now came round, bearing
trays with lemonade, cake, sliced pineapples, and some
other fruits.
"Well, on my word," said Eussel, "this is quite prettily
got up ! "
"Oh, I think," said Clayton, "the African race evi
dently are made to excel in that department which lies
between the sensuous and the intellectual what we call
the elegant arts. These require rich and abundant animal
nature, such as they possess; and if ever they become
highly civilized, they will excel in music, dancing, and
elocution."
"I have often noticed," said Anne, "in my scholars,
how readily they seize upon anything which pertains to
the department of music and language. The negroes are
sometimes laughed at for mispronouncing words, which
they will do in a very droll manner; but it s only because
they are so taken with the sounds of words that they will
try to pronounce beyond the sphere of their understanding,
like bright children."
"Some of these voices here are perfectly splendid," said
Russel.
"Yes," said Anne, "we have one or two girls on the
place who have that rich contralto voice which, I think,
is oftener to be found among them than among whites. "
"The Ethiopian race is a slow-growing plant, like the
aloe," said Clayton; "but I hope, some of these days,
they ll come into flower; and I think, if they ever do,
the blossoming will be gorgeous."
"That will do for a poet s expectation," said Russel.
The performance now gave place to a regular dancing-
party, which went on with great animation, yet decorum.
THE TROUBADOUR 413
"Religious people," said Clayton, "who have instructed
the negroes, I think have wasted a great deal of their
energy in persuading them to give up dancing and singing-
songs. I try to regulate the propensity. There is no use
in trying to make the negroes into Anglo-Saxons any more
than making a grapevine into a pear-tree. I train the
grapevine. "
"Behold," said Russel, "the successful champion of
negro rights ! "
"Not so very successful," said Clayton. "I suppose
you ve heard my case has been appealed; so that my vic
tory isn t so certain, after all."
"Oh," said Nina, "yes, it must be! I m sure no
person of common sense would decide any other way; and
your own father is one of the judges, too."
"That will only make him the more careful not to be
influenced in my favor," said Clayton.
The dancing now broke up, and the servants dispersed
in an orderly manner, and the company returned to the
veranda, which lay pleasantly checkered with the light of
the moon falling through trailing vines. The air was full
of those occasional pulsations of fragrance which rise in
the evening from flowers.
"Oh, how delightful," said Nina, "this fragrance of the
honeysuckles! I have a perfect passion for perfumes!
They seem to me like spirits in the air."
"Yes," said Clayton, "Lord Bacon says, that the
breath of flowers comes and goes in the air, like the war
bling of music.
"Did Lord Bacon say that?" said Nina in a tone of
surprise.
"Yes; why not?" said Clayton.
"Oh, I thought he was one of those musty old philoso
phers who never thought of anything pretty ! "
"Well," said Clayton, "then to-morrow let me read you
414 DEED
his essay on gardens, and you 11 find musty old philoso
phers often do think of pretty things."
"It was Lord Bacon," said Anne, "who always wanted
musicians playing in the next room while he was compos
ing."
"He did?" said Nina. "Why, how delightful of him!
I think I should like to hear some of his essays."
"There are some minds," said Clayton, "large enough
to take in everything. Such men can talk as prettily of
a ring on a lady s finger as they can wisely on the courses
of the planets. Nothing escapes them."
"That s the kind of man you ought to have for a lover,
Anne," said Nina, laughing; "you have weight enough to
risk it. I m such a little whisk of thistledown that it
would annihilate me. Such a ponderous weight of wisdom
attached to me would drag me under water, and drown me.
I should let go my line, I think, if I felt such a fish bite."
"You are tolerably safe in our times, said Clayton.
"Nature only sends such men once in a century or two.
They are the road-makers for the rest of the world. They
are quarry-masters, that quarry out marble enough for a
generation to work up."
"Well," said Nina, "I shouldn t want to be a quarry-
master s wife. I should be afraid that some of his blocks
would fall on me."
"W^hy, wouldn t you like it, if he were wholly your
slave?" said Frank Russel. "It would be like having
the genius of the lamp at your feet."
"Ah," said Nina, "if I could keep him my slave; but
I m afraid he 7 d outwit me at last. Such a man would
soon put me up on a shelf for a book read through. I ve
seen some great men, I mean great for our times, and
they didn t seem to care half as much for their wives as
they did for a newspaper."
"Oh," said Anne, "that s past praying for, with any
THE TROUBADOUR 415
husband. The newspaper is the standing rival of the
American lady. It must be a warm lover that can be
attracted from that, even before he is secure of his prize."
"You are severe, Miss Anne," said Eussel.
"She only speaks the truth. You men are a bad set,"
said Kina. "You are a kind of necessary evil, half civi
lized at best. But if ever I set up an establishment, I
shall insist upon taking precedence of the newspaper."
CHAPTER XXX
TIFF S GARDEN
WOULD the limits of our story admit of it, we should
gladly linger many days in the shady precincts of Magnolia
Grove, where Clayton and Nina remained some days
longer, and where the hours flew by on flowery feet; but
the inevitable time and tide, which wait for no man, wait
not for the narrator. We must therefore say, in brief,
that when the visit was concluded Clayton accompanied
Nina once more to Canema, and returned to the circle of
his own duties.
Nina returned to her own estate, with views somewhat
chastened and modified by her acquaintance with Anne.
As Clayton supposed, the influence of a real noble purpose
in life had proved of more weight than exhortations, and
she began to feel within herself positive aspirations for
some more noble and worthy life than she had heretofore
led. That great, absorbing feeling which determines the
whole destiny of woman s existence is in its own nature
an elevating and purifying one. It is such even when
placed on an unworthy object, and much more so when the
object is a worthy one. Since the first of their friendship,
Clayton had never officiously sought to interfere with the
growth and development of Nina s moral nature. He had
sufficient sagacity to perceive that, unconsciously to her
self, a deeper power of feeling, and a wider range of
thought, was opening within her; and he left the develop
ment of it to the same quiet forces which swell the rosebud
and guide the climbing path of the vine. Simply and
TIFF S GARDEN 417
absolutely he lived his own life before her, and let hers
alone; and the power of his life therefore became absolute.
A few mornings after her return, she thought that she
would go out and inquire after the welfare of our old friend
Tiff. It was a hazy, warm, bright summer morning, and
all things lay in that dreamy stillness, that trance of volup
tuous rest, which precedes the approach of the fiercer heats
of the day. Since her absence there had been evident
improvement in Tiff s affairs. The baby, a hearty, hand
some little fellow, by dint of good nursing, pork- sucking,
and lying outdoors in the tending of breezes and zephyrs,
had grown to be a creeping creature, and followed Tiff
around, in his garden ministrations, with unintelligible
chatterings of delight.
At the moment when Nina rode up Tiff was busy with
his morning work in the garden. His appearance, it is to
be confessed, was somewhat peculiar. He usually wore,
in compliment to his nursing duties, an apron in front;
but as his various avocations pressed hard upon his time,
and as his own personal outfit was ever the last to be
attended to, Tiff s nether garments had shown traces of
that frailty which is incident to all human things.
"Bress me," he said to himself, that morning, as he
with difficulty engineered his way into them, "holes here,
and holes dar! Don t want but two holes in my breeches,
and I s got two dozen! Got my foot through de wrong
place! For old Tiff! Laws-a-massy ! wish I could get
hold of some of dem dar clothes dey were telling bout at
de camp-meeting, dey wore forty years in de wilderness!
Mazing handy dem ar times was! Well, anyhow, I ll
tie an apron behind, and another in front. Bress de
Lord, I s got aprons, anyhow! I must make up a par of
breeches, some of dese yer days, when de baby s teeth is
all through, and Teddy s clothes don t want no mending,
and de washing is done, and dese yer weeds stops a-grow-
VOL. I.
418 DEED
ing in de garden. Bress if I know what de Lord want
of so many weeds Pears like dey comes just to plague
us; but den, we doesn t know. Maybe dere s some good
in em. We doesn t know but a leetle, noway. 7
Tiff was sitting on the ground weeding one of his gar
den-beds, when he was surprised by the apparition of Nina
on horseback coming up to the gate. Here was a di
lemma, to be sure ! No cavalier had a more absolute con
ception of the nature of politeness, and the claims of
beauty, rank, and fashion, than Tiff. Then, to be caught
sitting on the ground, with a blue apron on in front and
a red one on behind, was an appalling dilemma! How
ever, as our readers may have discovered, Tiff had that
essential requisite of good breeding, the moral courage to
face an exigency; and wisely considering that a want of
cordiality is a greater deficiency than the want of costume,
he rose up, without delay, and hastened to the gate to
acknowledge the honor.
"Lord bress yer sweet face, Miss Nina!" he said, while
the breezes flapped and fluttered his red and blue sails,
" Old Tiff s mazin happy to see you. Miss Fanny s well,
thank ye; and Mas r Teddy and the baby all doing nicely.
Bress de Lord, Miss Nina, be so good as to get down and
come in. I s got some nice berries dat I picked in de
swamp, and Miss Fanny 11 be proud to have you take
some. You see," he said, laughing heartily, and regarding
his peculiar costume, "I wasn t looking for any quality
long dis yer time o day, so I just got on my old clothes."
"Why, Uncle Tiff, I think they become you im
mensely ! " said Nina. " Your outfit is really original and
picturesque. You re not one of the people that are
ashamed of their work, are you, Uncle Tiff? So if you
just lead my horse to that stump, I 11 get down."
"Laws, no, Miss Nina!" said Tiff, as with alacrity he
obeyed her orders. "Spects, if Old Tiff was shamed of
TIFF S GARDEN 419
work, he d have a heap to be shamed of; cause it s
pretty much all work with him. T is so! "
"Tomtit pretended to come with me," said Nina, as she
looked round; "but he lagged behind by the brook to get
some of those green grapes, and I suspect it s the last I
shall see of him. So, Tiff, if you please to tie Sylphine
in the shade, I 11 go in to see Miss Fanny."
And Nina tripped lightly up the walk, now bordered on
either side by china asters and marigolds, to where Fanny
was standing bashfully in the door waiting for her. In her
own native woods this child was one of the boldest, freest,
and happiest of romps. There was scarce an eligible tree
which she could not climb, or a thicket she had not ex
plored. She was familiar with every flower, every bird, every
butterfly, of the vicinity. She knew precisely when every
kind of fruit would ripen, and flower would blossom; and
was so au fait in the language of birds and squirrels, that
she might almost have been considered one of the frater
nity. Her only companion and attendant, Old Tiff, had
that quaint, fanciful, grotesque nature which is the furthest
possible removed from vulgarity ; and his frequent lectures
on proprieties and conventionalities, his long and prolix
narrations of her ancestral glories and distinctions, had
succeeded in infusing into her a sort of childish conscious
ness of dignity, while at the same time it inspired her with
a bashful awe of those whom she saw surrounded with the
actual insignia and circumstances of position and fortune.
After all, Tiff s method of education, instinctive as it was,
was highly philosophical, since a certain degree of self-
respect is the nurse of many virtues, and a shield from
many temptations. There is also something, perhaps, in
the influence of descent. Fanny certainly inherited from
her mother a more delicate organization than generally
attends her apparent station in life. She had, also, what
perhaps belongs to the sex, a capability of receiving the
420 DEED
mysteries and proprieties of dress; and Nina, as she stood
on the threshold of the single low room, could not but be
struck with the general air of refinement which character
ized both it and its little mistress. There were flowers
from the swamps and hedges arranged with care and taste;
feathers of birds, strings of eggs of different colors, dried
grasses, and various little woodland curiosities, which
showed a taste refined by daily intercourse with nature.
Fanny herself was arrayed in a very pretty print dress,
which her father had brought home in a recent visit, with
a cape of white muslin. Her brown hair was brushed
smoothly from her forehead, and her clear blue eyes, and
fair, rosy complexion, gave her a pleasing air of intelli
gence and refinement.
"Thank you," said Nina, as Fanny offered her the only
chair the establishment afforded; "but I m going with Tiff
out in the garden. I never can bear to be in the house
such days as this. You didn t expect me over so early,
Uncle Tiff; but I took a notable turn, this morning, and
routed them up to an early breakfast, on purpose that I
might have time to get over here before the heat came on.
It s pleasant out here, now the shadow of the woods falls
across the garden so. How beautifully those trees wave !
Tiff, go on with your work never mind me. "
"Yes, Miss Nina, it s mighty pleasant. Why, I was
out in dis yer garden at four o clock dis morning, and
peared like dese yer trees was waving like a psalm, so sort
o still, you know ! Kind o spreading out der hands like
dey d have prayers; and dere was a mighty handsome star
a-looking down. I spects dat ar star is one of de very
oldest families up dar."
" Most likely, " said Nina cheerily. " They call it Venus,
the star of love, Uncle Tiff; and I believe that is a very
old family."
"Love is a mighty good ting, anyhow," said Tiff.
TIFF S GARDEN 421
"Lord bress you, Miss Nina, it makes everyting go kind
o easy. Sometimes, when I m studding upon dese yer
tings, I says to myself, pears like de trees in de wood,
dey loves each oder. Dey stands kind o locking arms so,
and dey kind o nod der heads, and whispers so! Pears
like de grapevines, and de birds, and all dem ar tings,
dey lives comfortable togeder, like dey was peaceable, and
liked each oder. Now, folks is apt to get a-stewin and
a-frettin round, and turning up der noses at dis yer ting,
and dat ar; but pears like de Lord s works takes every-
ting mighty easy. Dey just kind o lives along peaceable.
I tink it s mighty structive! "
"Certainly it is," said Nina. "Old Mother Nature is
an excellent manager, and always goes on making the best
of everything."
"Dere s heaps done dat ar way, and no noise," said
Tiff. "Why, Miss Nina, I studies upon dat ar out here
in my garden. Why, look at dat ar corn, way up over
your head, now ! All dat ar growed dis yer summer. No
noise bout it pears like nobody couldn t see when
t was done. Dey were telling us in camp-meeting how de
Lord created de heaven and de earth. Now, Miss Nina,
Tiff has his own thoughts, you know; and Tiff says pears
like de Lord is creating de heaven and de earth all de
time. Pears like you can see Him a-doing of it right
afore your face; and dem growing tings are so curus!
Miss Nina, pears for all de world like as if dey was crit
ters! Pears like each of em has der own way, and won t
go no oder! Dese yer beans, dey will come up so curus
right top o de stalks; dey will turn round de pole one
way, and if you was to tie em, you could n t make em
go round t oder! Dey s set in der own way dey is,
for all dey s so still bout it! Laws, Miss Nina, dese yer
tings makes Tiff laugh does so ! " he said, sitting down,
and indulging in one of his fits of merriment.
422 DEED
"You are quite a philosopher, Tiff, said Nina.
" Laws, Miss Nina, I hopes not ! " said Tiff solemnly ;
" cause one of de preachers at de camp-meeting used up
dem folk terrible, I tell you! Dat ar pretty much all I
could make out of de sermon, dat people mustn t be loso-
phers! Laws, Miss Nina, I hope I ain t no sich! "
"Oh, I mean the good kind, Uncle Tiff. But how
were you pleased, upon the whole, at the camp-meeting ? "
said Nina.
"Well," said Tiff, "Miss Nina, I hope I got something
I don t know fa rly how much tis. But, Miss Nina,
it pears like as if you had come out here to instruct us
bout dese yer tings. Miss Fanny, she don t read very
well yet, and pears like if you could read us some out of
de Bible, and teach us how to be Christians "
"Why, Tiff, I scarcely know how myself!" said Nina.
"I 11 send Milly to talk to you. She is a real good Chris
tian."
"Milly is a very nice woman," said Tiff, somewhat
doubtfully; "but, Miss Nina, pears like I would rather
have white teaching; pears like I would rather have you,
if it wouldn t be too much trouble."
"Oh no, Uncle Tiff! If you want to hear me read,
I ll read to you now," said Nina. "Have you got a
Bible, here? Stay; I ll sit down. I ll take the chair
and sit down in the shade, and then you need n t stop your
work."
Tiff hurried into the house to call Fanny ; produced a
copy of a Testament, which, with much coaxing, he had
persuaded Cripps to bring on his last visit; and while
Fanny sat at her feet making larkspur rings, Nina turned
over the pages, to think what to read. When she saw
Tiff s earnest and eager attention, her heart smote her to
think that the book so valuable in his eyes was to her
almost an unread volume.
TIFF S GAEDEN 423
"What shall I read to you, Tiff? What do you want
to hear ? "
"Well, I wants to find out de shortest way I ken, how
dese yer chil en a to be got to heaven!" said Tiff. "Dis
yer world is mighty well long as it holds out; but den,
yer see, it don t last forever! Tings is passing away!"
Nina thought a moment. The great question of ques
tions, so earnestly proposed to her! The simple, childlike
old soul hanging confidingly on her answer! At last she
said, with a seriousness quite unusual with her :
"Tiff, I think the best thing I can do is to read to you
about our Saviour. He came down into this world to
show us the way to heaven. And I 11 read you, when I
come here days, all that there is about Him all He said
and did; and then, perhaps, you ll see the way yourself.
Perhaps," she added, with a sigh, "I shall, too!"
As she spoke, a sudden breeze of air shook the clusters
of a prairie rose, which was climbing into the tree under
which she was sitting, and a shower of rose leaves fell
around her.
"Yes," she said to herself, as the rose leaves fell on her
book, "it s quite true, what he says. Everything is pass
ing!"
And now, amid the murmur of the pine-trees, and the
rustling of the garden vines, came on the ear of the listen
ers the first words of that sweet and ancient story :
"Now, when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, in
the days of Herod the King, behold there came wise men
from the East, saying, Where is He that is born King of
the Jews? For we have seen his star in the East, and
are come to worship Him.
Probably more cultivated minds would have checked the
progress of the legend by a thousand questions, statistical
and geographical, as to where Jerusalem was, and who the
wise men were, and how far the East was from Jerusalem,
424 DEED
and whether it was probable they would travel so far.
But Nina was reading to children, and to an old child-man,
in whose grotesque and fanciful nature there was yet trea
sured a believing sweetness, like the amulets supposed to
belong to the good genii of the fairy tales. The quick
fancy of her auditors made reality of the story as it went
along. A cloudy Jerusalem built itself up immediately in
their souls, and became as well known to them as the
neighboring town of E . Herod, the king, became a
real walking personage in their minds, with a crown on his
head. And Tiff immediately discerned a resemblance
between him and a certain domineering old General Eaton,
who used greatly to withstand the cause of virtue, and
the Peytons, in the neighborhood where he was brought
up. Tiff s indignation, when the slaughter of the inno
cents was narrated, was perfectly outrageous. He declared
he wouldn t have believed that of King Herod, bad as
he was ! and good hearted and inoffensive as Tiff was in
general, it really seemed to afford him comfort "dat de
debil had got dat ar man fore now."
" Sarves him right, too ! " said Tiff, striking fiercely at
a weed with his hoe. "Killing all dem por little chil en!
Why, what harm had dey done him, anyway 1 ? Wonder
what he thought of hisself ! "
Nina found it necessary to tranquillize the good creature,
to get a hearing for the rest of the story. She went on
reading of the wild night- journey of the wise men, and
how the star went before them till it stood over the place
where the child was. How they went in, and saw the
young child, and Mary his mother, and fell down before
him, offering gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
"Lord bless you! I wish I d a been dar!" said Tiff.
"And dat ar chile was de Lord of glory, sure nough, Miss
Nina! I hearn em sing dis yer hymn at de camp-meeting
you know, bout cold on his cradle. You know it goes
TIFF S GARDEN 425
dis yer way." And Tiff sung, to a kind of rocking
lullaby, words whose poetic imagery had hit his fancy
before he knew their meaning.
" Cold on his cradle the dewdrops are shining,
Low lies his head with the beasts of the stall;
Angels adore, in slumber reclining,
Maker, and Saviour, and Monarch of all."
Nina had never realized, till she felt it in the undoubt-
ing faith of her listeners, the wild, exquisite poetry of that
legend, which, like an immortal lily, blooms in the heart
of Christianity as spotless and as tender now as eighteen
hundred years ago. That child of Bethlehem, when after
wards he taught in Galilee, spoke of seed which fell into
a good and honest heart ; and words could not have been
more descriptive of the nature which was now receiving
this seed of paradise.
When Nina had finished her reading, she found her own
heart touched by the effect which she had produced. The
nursing, child-loving Old Tiff was ready, in a moment, to
bow before his Redeemer, enshrined in the form of an
infant; and it seemed as if the air around him had been
made sacred by the sweetness of the story.
As Nina was mounting her horse to return, Tiff brought
out a little basket full of wild raspberries.
"Tiff wants to give you something," he said.
"Thank you, Uncle Tiff. How delightful! Now, if
you 11 only give me a cluster of your Michigan rose ! "
Proud and happy was Tiff, and pulling down the very
topmost cluster of his rose, he presented it to her. Alas !
before Nina reached home, it hung drooping from the heat.
"The grass withereth, and the flower fadeth; but the
word of our God shall stand forever."
CHAPTER XXXI
THE WARNING
IN life organized as it is at the South there are two
currents: one, the current of the master s fortunes, feel
ings, and hopes; the other, that of the slave s. It is a
melancholy fact in the history of the human race, as yet,
that there have been multitudes who follow the triumphal
march of life only as captives, to whom the voice of the
trumpet, the waving of the banners, the shouts of the
people, only add to the bitterness of inthrallment.
While life to Nina was daily unfolding in brighter
colors, the slave-brother at her side was destined to feel an
additional burden on his already unhappy lot.
It was toward evening, after having completed his daily
cares, that he went to the post-office for the family letters.
Among these, one was directed to himself, and he slowly
perused it as he rode home through the woods. It was as
follows :
MY DEAR BROTHER, I told you how comfortably
we were living on our place I and my children. Since
then, everything has been changed. Mr. Tom Gordon
came here and put in a suit for the estate, and attached
me and my children as slaves. He is a dreadful man.
The case has been tried and gone against us. The judge
said that both deeds of emancipation both the one exe
cuted in Ohio and the one here were of no effect ; that
my boy was a slave, and could no more hold property than
a mule before a plough. I had some good friends here,
THE WARNING 427
and people pitied me very much; but nobody could help
me. Tom Gordon is a bad man a very bad man. I
cannot tell you all that he said to me. I only tell you
that I will kill myself and my children before we will be
his slaves. Harry, I have been free, and I know what
liberty is. My children have been brought up free, and
if I can help it they never shall know what slavery is. I
have got away, and am hiding with a colored family here
in Natchez. I hope to get to Cincinnati, where I have
friends.
My dear brother, I did hope to do something for you.
Now I cannot. Nor can you do anything for me. The
law is on the side of our oppressors; but I hope God will
help us. Farewell! Your affectionate
SISTER.
It is difficult to fathom the feelings of a person brought
up in a position so wholly unnatural as that of Harry.
The feelings which had been cultivated in him by educa
tion, and the indulgence of his nominal possessors, were
those of an honorable and gentlemanly man. His position
was absolutely that of the common slave, without one legal
claim to anything on earth, one legal right of protection in
any relation of life. What any man of strong nature would
feel on hearing such tidings from a sister, Harry felt.
In a moment there rose up before his mind the picture
of Nina in all her happiness and buoyancy in all the
fortunate accessories in her lot. Had the vague thoughts
which crowded on his mind been expressed in words, they
might have been something like these :
" I have two sisters, daughters of one father, both beau
tiful, both amiable and good; but one has rank, and posi
tion, and wealth, and ease, and pleasure; the other is an
outcast, unprotected, given up to the brutal violence of a
vile and wicked man. She has been a good wife, and a
428 DRED
good mother. Her husband has done all he could to save
her; but the cruel hand of the law grasps her and her
children, and hurls them back into the abyss from which
it was his life-study to raise them. And I can do nothing !
I am not even a man! And this curse is on me, and on
my wife, and on my children and children s children, for
ever! Yes, what does the judge say in this letter? He
can no more own anything than the mule before his
plough! That s to be the fate of every child of mine!
And yet people say, You have all you w r ant ; why are
you not happy 1 I wish they could try it ! Do they
think broadcloth coats and gold watches can comfort a man
for all this 1 "
Harry rode along, with his hands clenched upon the
letter, the reins drooping from the horse s neck, in the
same unfrequented path where he had twice before met
Dred. Looking up, he saw him the third time, standing
silently, as if he had risen from the ground.
"Where did you come from? " said he. "Seems to me
you are always at hand when anything is going against
me!"
" Went not my spirit with thee ? " said Dred. " Have
I not seen it all 1 ? It is because we will bear this that we
have it to bear, Harry."
"But," said Harry, "what can we do?"
"Do? What does the wild horse do? Launch out our
hoofs ! rear up, and come down on them ! What does the
rattlesnake do? Lie in their path, and bite! Why did
they make slaves of us ? They tried the wild Indians first.
Why didn t they keep to them? They wouldn t be
slaves, and we will ! They that will bear the yoke may
bear it!"
"But," said Harry, "Dred, this is all utterly hopeless.
Without any means, or combination, or leaders, we should
only rush on to our own destruction."
THE WARNING 429
"Let us die, then!" said Dred. "What if we do die?
What great matter is that 1 If they bruise oar head, we
can sting their heels ! Nat Turner they killed him ; but
the fear of him almost drove them to set free their slaves!
Yes, it was argued among them. They came within two
or three votes of it in their assembly. A little more fear,
and they would have done it. If my father had succeeded,
the slaves in Carolina would be free to-day. Die 1 Why
not die ? Christ was crucified ! Has everything dropped
out of you, that you can t die that you ll crawl like
worms, for the sake of living 1 "
"I m not afraid of death myself," said Harry. "God
knows I would n t care if I did die; but "
"Yes, I know," said Dred. "She that letteth will let,
till she be taken out of the way. I tell you, Harry,
there s a seal been loosed there s a vial poured out on
the air; and the destroying angel standeth over Jerusalem,
with his sword drawn ! "
" What do you mean by that ? " said Harry.
Dred stood silent for a moment; his frame assumed the
rigid tension of a cataleptic state, and his voice sounded
like that of a person speaking from a distance, yet there
was a strange distinctness in it.
"The words of the prophet, and the vision that he hath
from the Lord, when he saw the vision, falling into a
trance, and having his eyes open, and behold he saw a roll
flying through the heavens, and it was written, within and
without, with mourning and lamentation and woe ! Be
hold, it cometh ! Behold, the slain of the Lord shall be
many! They shall fall in the house and by the way!
The bride shall fall in her chamber, and the child shall
die in its cradle! There shall be a cry in the land of
Egypt, for there shall not be a house where there is not
one dead ! "
"Dred! Dred! Dred!" said Harry, pushing him by the
430 DEED
shoulder; "come out of this coine out! It s fright
ful ! "
Dred stood looking before him, with his head inclined
forward, his hand upraised, and his eyes strained, with the
air of one who is trying to make out something through
a thick fog. "I see her!" he said. "Who is that by
her 1 His back is turned. Ah ! I see it is he ! And
there s Harry and Milly! Try hard try! You won t
do it. No, no use sending for the doctor. There s not
one to be had. They are all too busy. Bub her hands !
Yes. But it s no good. Whom the Lord loveth he
taketh away from the evil to come. Lay her down. Yes,
it is Death ! Death ! Death ! "
Harry had often seen the strange moods of Dred, and he
shuddered now, because he partook somewhat in the com
mon superstitions, which prevailed among the slaves, of
his prophetic power. He shook and called him; but he
turned slowly away, and with eyes that seemed to see
nothing, yet guiding himself with his usual dextrous agil
ity, he plunged again into the thickness of the swamp, and
was soon lost to view.
After his return home it was with the sensation of chill
at his heart that he heard Aunt Nesbit reading to Nina
portions of a letter, describing the march through some
northern cities of the cholera, which was then making fear
ful havoc on our American shore. "Nobody seems to
know how to manage it," the letter said; "physicians are
all at a loss. It seems to spurn all laws. It bursts upon
cities like a thunderbolt, scatters desolation and death, and
is gone with equal rapidity. People rise in the morning
well, and are buried before evening. In one day houses
are swept of a whole family."
"Ah," said Harry to himself, "I see the meaning now,
but what does it portend to us ? "
How the strange foreshadowing had risen to the mind
THE WARNING 431
of Dred we shall not say. Whether there be mysterious
electric sympathies which, floating through the air, bear
dim presentiments on their wings, or whether some stray
piece of intelligence had dropped on his ear, and been
interpreted by the burning fervor of his soul, we know not.
The news, however, left very little immediate impression
on the daily circle at Canema. It was a dread reality in
the far distance. Harry only pondered it with anxious
fear.
CHAPTER XXXII
THE MORNING STAB
NINA continued her visits to Tiff s garden on almost
every pleasant morning or evening. Tiff had always some
little offering, either berries or flowers, to present, or a
nice little luncheon of fish or birds, cooked in some mode
of peculiar delicacy ; and which, served up in sylvan style,
seemed to have something of the wild relish of the woods.
In return, she continued to read the story so interesting to
him; and it was astonishing how little explanation it
needed how plain honesty of heart, and lovingness of
nature, interpreted passages over which theologians have
wrangled in vain. It was not long before Tiff had imper
sonated to himself each of the disciples, particularly Peter;
so that, when anything was said by him, Tiff would nod
his head significantly, and say, "Ah, ah! dat ar s just
like him! He s allers a-puttin in; but he s a good man,
arter all ! "
What impression was made on the sensitive young
nature, through whom, as a medium, Tiff received this
fresh revelation, we may, perhaps, imagine. There are
times in life when the soul, like a half-grown climbing
vine, hangs wavering tremulously, stretching out its ten
drils for something to ascend by. Such are generally the
great transition periods of life, when we are passing from
the ideas and conditions of one stage of existence to those
of another. Such times are most favorable for the presen
tation of the higher truths of religion. In the hazy, slum
berous stillness of that midsummer atmosphere, in the
THE MORNING STAR 433
long, silent rides through the pines, Nina half awakened
from the thoughtless dreams of childhood, yearning for
something nobler than she yet had lived for, thought over,
and revolved in her mind, this beautiful and spotless image
of God, revealed in man, which her daily readings pre
sented; and the world that he created seemed to whisper
to her in every pulsation of its air, in every breath of its
flowers, in the fanning of its winds, "He still liveth, and
he loveth thee." The voice of the Good Shepherd fell on
the ear of the wandering lamb, calling her to his arms;
and Nina found herself one day unconsciously repeating,
as she returned through the woods, words which she had
often heard read at church :
"When thou saidst unto me, Seek ye my face, my heart
said unto thee, Thy face, Lord, will I seek."
Nina had often dreaded the idea of becoming a Chris
tian, as one shrinks from the idea of a cold, dreary passage
which must be passed to gain a quiet home. But sud
denly, as if by some gentle invisible hand, the veil seemed
to be drawn which hid the face of Almighty Love from
her view. She beheld the earth and the heavens transfig
ured in the light of his smile. A strange and unspeakable
joy arose within her, as if some loving presence were
always near her. It was with her when she lay down at
night, and when she awoke in the morning the strange
happiness had not departed. Her feelings may be best
expressed by an extract from a letter which she wrote at
this time to Clayton :
It seems to me that I have felt a greater change in me
within the last two months than in my whole life before.
When I look back at what I was in New York, three
months ago, actually I hardly know myself. It seems to
me in those old days that life was only a frolic to*me, as
it is to the kitten. I don t really think that there was
VOL. I.
434 DRED
much harm in me, only the want of good. In those days,
sometimes I used to have a sort of dim longing to be
better, particularly when Livy Ray was at school. It
seemed as if she woke up something that had been asleep
in me; but she went away, and I fell asleep again, and life
went on like a dream. Then I became acquainted with
you, and you began to rouse me again, and for some time
I thought I didn t like to wake; it was just as it is when
one lies asleep in the morning it s so pleasant to sleep
and dream, that one resists any one who tries to bring
him back to life. I used to feel quite pettish when I first
knew you, and sometimes wished you d let me alone, be
cause I saw that you belonged to a different kind of sphere
from what I d been living in. And I had a presentiment
that, if I let you go on, life would have to be something
more than a joke with me. But you would, like a very
indiscreet man as you are, you would insist on being in
sober earnest.
I used to think that I had no heart; I begin to think
I have a good deal now. Every day it seems as if I could
love more and more ; and a great many things are growing
clear to me that I did n t use to understand, and I m grow
ing happier every day.
You know my queer old protege, Uncle Tiff, who
lives in the woods here. For some time past I have been
to his house every day, reading to him in the Testament,
and it has had a very great effect on me. It affected me
very much, in the first place, that he seemed so very ear
nest about religion, when I, who ought to know so much
more, was so indifferent to it; and when the old creature,
with tears in his eyes, actually insisted upon it that I
should show his children the road to heaven, then I began
to read to him the Testament, the life of Jesus. I did n t
know myself how beautiful it was how suited to all our
wants. It seemed to me I never saw so much beauty in
THE MORNING STAR 435
anything before; and it seems as if it had waked a new
life in me. Everything is changed; and it is the beauty
of Christ that has changed it. You know I always loved
beauty above all things, in music, in nature, and in flow
ers; but it seems to me that I see something now in Jesus
more beautiful than all. It seems as if all these had been
shadows of beauty, but He is the substance. It is strange,
but I have a sense of him, his living and presence, that
sometimes almost overpowers me. It seems as if he had
been following me always, but I had not seen him. He
has been a good shepherd, seeking the thoughtless lamb.
He has, all my life, been calling me child; but till lately
my heart has never answered, Father! Is this religion?
Is this what people mean by conversion? I tried to tell
Aunt Nesbit how I felt, because now I feel kinder to
everybody; and really my heart smote me to think how
much fun I had made of her, and now I begin to love her
very much. She was so anxious I should talk with Mr.
Titmarsh, because he is a minister. Well, you know I
didn t want to do it, but I thought I ought to, because
poor aunty really seemed to feel anxious I should. I sup
pose, if I were as perfect as I ought to be, a good man s
stiff ways would n t trouble me so. But stiff people, you
know, are my particular temptation.
He came and made a pastoral call, the other day, and
talked to me. I don t think he understood me very well,
and I m sure I didn t understand him. He told me how
many kinds of faith there were, and how many kinds of
love. I believe there were three kinds of faith, and two
kinds of love; and he thought it was important to know
whether I had got the right kind. He said we ought not
to love God because he loves us, but because he is holy.
He wanted to know whether I had any just views of sin,
as an infinite evil; and I told him I hadn t the least idea
of what infinite was; and that I hadn t any views of any-
436 DEED
thing, but the beauty of Christ; that I didn t understand
anything about the different sorts of faith, but that I felt
perfectly sure that Jesus is so good that he would make
me feel right, and give me right views, and do everything
for me that I need.
He wanted to know if I loved him because he magni
fied the law, and made it honorable; and I told him I
didn t understand what that meant.
I don t think, on the whole, that the talk did me
much good. It only confused me, and made me very
uncomfortable. But I went out to Old Tiff s in the even
ing, and read how Jesus received the little children. You
never saw anybody so delighted as Old Tiff was. He got
me to read it to him three or four times over; and now he
gets me to read it every time I go there, and he says he
likes it better than any other part of the Testament. Tiff
and I get along very well together. He does n t know any
more about faith than I do, and hasn t any better views
than I have. Aunt Nesbit is troubled about me, because
I m so happy. She says she s afraid I haven t any sense
of sin. Don t you remember my telling you how happy
I felt the first time I heard real music ? I thought, before
that, that I could sing pretty well; but in one hour all my
music became trash in my eyes. And yet, I would not
have missed it for the world. So it is now. That beau
tiful life of Jesus so sweet, so calm, so pure, so unsel
fish, so perfectly natural, and yet so far beyond nature
has shown me what a poor, sinful, low creature I am; and
yet I rejoice. I feel, sometimes, as I did when I first
heard a full orchestra play some of Mozart s divine harmo
nies. I forgot that I was alive; I lost all thought of
myself entirely; and I was perfectly happy. So it is now.
This loveliness and beauty that I see makes me happy
without any thought of myself. It seems to me, some
times, that while I see it I never can suffer.
THE MORNING STAR 437
There is another thing that is strange to me; and that
is, that the Bible has grown so beautiful to me. It seems
to me that it has been all my life like the transparent pic
ture, without any light behind it; and now it is all illumi
nated, and its words are full of meaning to me. I am
light hearted and happy happier than ever I was. Do
you remember, the first day you came to Canema, that I
told you it seemed so sad that we must die 1 That feeling
is all gone, now. I feel that Jesus is everywhere, and
that there is no such thing as dying; it is only going out
of one room into another.
Everybody wonders to see how light hearted I am; and
poor aunty says, "she trembles for me." I couldn t help
thinking of that, the other morning I was reading to Tiff,
what Jesus said when they asked him why his disciples
did not fast: "Can the children of the bride- chamber mourn
while the bridegroom is with them 1 "
Now, my dear friend, you must tell me what you think
of all this, because, you know, I always tell you every
thing. I have written to Livy about it, because I know
it will make her so happy. Milly seems to understand
it all, and what she says to me really helps me very
much. I always used to think that Milly had some
strange, beautiful kind of inward life, that I knew nothing
of, because she would speak with so much certainty of
God s love, and act as if it was so real to her; and she
would tell me so earnestly, " Chile, he loves you ! " Now
I see into it that mystery of his love to us, and how he
overcomes and subdues all things by love; and I under
stand how "perfect love casteth out fear."
To this letter Nina soon received an answer, from which
also we give an extract :
If I was so happy, my dearest one, as to be able to
438 DEED
awaken that deeper and higher nature which I always knew
was in you, I thank God. But if I ever was in any
respect your teacher, you have passed beyond my teachings
now. Your childlike simplicity of nature makes you a
better scholar than I in that school where the first step is
to forget all our worldly wisdom and become a little child.
We men have much more to contend with, in the pride of
our nature, in our habits of worldly reasoning. It takes us
long to learn the lesson that faith is the highest wisdom.
Don t trouble your head, dear Nina, with Aunt Nesbit or
Mr. Titmarsh. What you feel is faith. They define it,
and you feel it. And there s all the difference between
the definition and the feeling that there is between the
husk and the corn.
As for me, I am less happy than you. Religion seems
to me to have two parts to it. One part is the aspiration
of man s nature, and the other is God s answer to those
aspirations. I have, as yet, only the first; perhaps, because
I am less simple and less true; perhaps, because I am not
yet become a little child. So you must be my guide,
instead of I yours; for I believe it is written of the faith
ful, that a little child shall lead them.
I am a good deal tried now, my dear, because I am
coming to a crisis in my life. I am going to take a step
that will deprive me of many friends, of popularity, and
that will, perhaps, alter all my course for the future.
But if I should lose friends and popularity, you would
love me still, would you not 1 It is wronging you to ask
such a question; but yet I should like to have you answer
it. It will make me stronger for what I have to do. On
Thursday of this week my case will come on again. I
am very busy just now; but the thought of you mingles
with every thought.
CHAPTER XXXIII
THE LEGAL DECISION
THE time for the session of the Supreme Court had now
arrived, and Clayton s cause was to be reconsidered.
Judge Clayton felt exceedingly chagrined as the time
drew near. Being himself the leading judge of the Su
preme Court, the declaration of the bench would necessa
rily be made known through him.
"It is extremely painful to me, 7 he said to Mrs. Clay
ton, "to have this case referred to me; for I shall be
obliged to reverse the decision."
"Well," said Mrs. Clayton, "Edward must have forti
tude to encounter the usual reverses of his profession. He
made a gallant defense, and received a great deal of admi
ration, which will not be at all lessened by this."
"You do not understand me," said Judge Clayton.
"It is not the coming out in opposition to Edward which
principally annoys me. It is the nature of the decision that
I am obliged to make the doctrine that I feel myself
forced to announce."
"And must you, then?" said Mrs. Clayton.
"Yes, I must," said Judge Clayton. "A judge can
only perceive and declare. What I see, I must speak,
though it go against all my feelings and all my sense of
right."
"I don t see, for my part," said Mrs. Clayton, "how
that decision can possibly be reversed, without allowing
the most monstrous injustice."
"Such is the case," said Judge Clayton; "but I sit in
440 DEED
my seat, not to make laws, nor to alter them, but simply
to declare what they are. However bad the principle
declared, it is not so bad as the proclamation of a falsehood
would be. I have sworn truly to declare the laws, and I
must keep my oath."
"And have you talked with Edward about it? "
"Not particularly. He understands, in general, the
manner in which the thing lies in my mind."
This conversation took place just before it was time for
Judge Clayton to go to his official duties.
The court -room, on this occasion, was somewhat
crowded. Barker, being an active, resolute, and popular
man, with a certain class, had talked up a considerable
excitement with regard to his case. Clayton s friends
were interested in it on his account; lawyers were, for
the sake of the principle; so that, upon the whole, there
was a good deal of attention drawn towards this deci
sion.
Among the spectators, on the morning of the court, Clay
ton remarked Harry. For reasons which our readers may
appreciate, Harry s presence there was a matter of interest
to Clayton. He made his way towards him.
"Harry," he said, "how came you here?"
"The ladies," said Harry, "thought they would like to
know how the thing went, and so I got on to my horse
and came over."
As he spoke he placed in Clayton s hand a note, and
as the paper touched his hand, a close spectator might
have seen the color rise in his cheek. He made his way
back to his place, and opened a law-book, which he held
up before his face. Inside the law-book, however, was
a little sheet of gilt-edged paper, on which were written
a few words in pencil, more interesting than all the law
in the world. Shall we commit the treason of reading
over his shoulder? It was as follows:
THE LEGAL DECISION 441
You say you may to-day be called to do something
which you think right, but which will lose you many
friends; which will destroy your popularity, which may
alter all your prospects in life; and you ask if I can love
you yet. I say, in answer, that it was not your friends
that I loved, nor your popularity, nor your prospects, but
you. I can love and honor a man who is not afraid nor
ashamed to do what he thinks to be right; and therefore
I hope ever to remain yours, NINA.
P. S. I only got your letter this morning, and have
but just time to scribble this and send by Harry. We are
all well, and shall be glad to see you as soon as the case is
over.
"Clayton, my boy, you are very busy with your author
ities," said Frank Eussel, behind him. Clayton hastily
hid the paper in his hand.
"It s charming!" said Kussel, "to have little manu
script annotations on law. It lights it up, like the illumi
nations in old missals. But say, Clayton, you live at the
fountain-head : how is the case going 1 "
"Against me!" said Clayton.
"Well, it s no great odds, after all. You have had
your triumph. These after-thoughts cannot take away
that. . . . But hush! There s your father going to
speak ! "
Every eye in the court-room was turned upon Judge
Clayton, who was standing with his usual self-poised com
posure of manner. In a clear, deliberate voice, he spoke
as follows :
"A judge cannot but lament when such cases as the
present are brought into judgment. It is impossible that
the reasons on which they go can be appreciated but where
institutions similar to our own exist and are thoroughly
understood. The struggle, too, in the judge s own breast,
442 DEED
between the feelings of the man and the duty of the magis
trate, is a severe one, presenting strong temptation to put
aside such questions, if it be possible. It is useless, how
ever, to complain of things inherent in our political state.
And it is criminal in a court to avoid any responsibility
which the laws impose. With whatever reluctance, there
fore, it is done, the court is compelled to express an opin
ion upon the extent of the dominion of the master over
the slave in North Carolina. The indictment charges a
battery on Milly, a slave of Louisa Nesbit. . . .
"The inquiry here is, whether a cruel and unreasonable
battery on a slave by the hirer is indictable. The judge
below instructed the jury that it is. He seems to have
put it . on the ground, that the defendant had but a special
property. Our laws uniformly treat the master, or other
person having the possession and command of the slave,
as entitled to the same extent of authority. The object is
the same, the service of the slave; and the same powers
must be confided. In a criminal proceeding, and, indeed,
in reference to all other persons but the general owner, the
hirer and possessor of the slave, in relation to both rights
and duties, is, for the time being, the owner. . . . But
upon the general question, whether the owner is answer
able, criminaliter, for a battery upon his own slave, or
other exercise of authority or force, not forbidden by
statute, the court entertains but little doubt. That he is
so liable has never been decided, nor, as far as is known,
been hitherto contended. There has been no prosecution
of the sort. The established habits and uniform practice
of the country, in this respect, is the best evidence of the
portion of power deemed by the whole community requisite
to the preservation of the master s dominion. If we
thought differently, we could not set our notions in array
against the judgment of everybody else, and say that this
or that authority may be safely lopped off.
THE LEGAL DECISION 443
"This has indeed been assimilated at the bar to the
other domestic relations: and arguments drawn from the
well-established principles, which confer and restrain the au
thority of the parent over the child, the tutor over the
pupil, the master over the apprentice, have been pressed
on us.
"The court does not recognize their application. There
is no likeness between the cases. They are in opposition
to each other, and there is an impassable gulf between
them. The difference is that which exists between free
dom and slavery ; and a greater cannot be imagined. In
the one, the end in view is the happiness of the youth
born to equal rights with that governor on whom the duty
devolves of training the young to usefulness, in a station
which he is afterwards to assume among free men. To
such an end, and with such a subject, moral and intellec
tual instruction seem the natural means; and, for the most
part, they are found to suffice. Moderate force is super-
added only to make the others effectual. If that fail, it is
better to leave the party to his own headstrong passions,
and the ultimate correction of the law, than to allow it to
be immoderately inflicted by a private person. With
slavery it is far otherwise. The end is the profit of the
master, his security, and the public safety; the subject,
one doomed, in his own person and his posterity, to live
without knowledge, and without the capacity to make any
thing his own, and to toil that another may reap the fruits.
What moral considerations shall be addressed to such a
being, to convince him what it is impossible but that the
most stupid must feel and know can never be true, that
he is thus to labor upon a principle of natural duty, or for
the sake of his own personal happiness? Such services
can only be expected from one who has no will of his own ;
who surrenders his will in implicit obedience to that of
another. Such obedience is the consequence only of un-
444 DEED
controlled authority over the body. There is nothing else
which can operate to produce the effect. The power of
the master must be absolute, to render the submission of
the slave perfect. I most freely confess my sense of the
harshness of this proposition. I feel it as deeply as any
man can. And as a principle of moral right, every person
in his retirement must repudiate it. But, in the actual
condition of things, it must be so. There is no remedy.
This discipline belongs to the state of slavery. They
cannot be disunited without abrogating at once the rights
of the master, and absolving the slave from his subjection.
It constitutes the curse of slavery to both the bond and
the free portions of our population. But it is inherent in
the relation of master and slave. That there may be par
ticular instances of cruelty and deliberate barbarity, where
in conscience the law might properly interfere, is most
probable. The difficulty is to determine where a court
may properly begin. Merely in the abstract, it may well
be asked which power of the master accords with right.
The answer will probably sweep away all of them. But
we cannot look at the matter in that light. The truth is
that we are forbidden to enter upon a train of general
reasoning on the subject. We cannot allow the right of
the master to be brought into discussion in the courts of
justice. The slave, to remain a slave, must be made sen
sible that there is no appeal from his master; that his
power is, in no instance, usurped, but is conferred by the
laws of man, at least, if not by the law of God. The
danger would be great, indeed, if the tribunals of justice
should be called on to graduate the punishment appropri
ate to every temper and every dereliction of menial duty.
"No man can anticipate the many and aggravated provo
cations of the master which the slave would be constantly
stimulated by his own passions, or the instigation of others,
to give; or the consequent wrath of the master, prompt-
THE LEGAL DECISION 445
ing him to bloody vengeance upon the turbulent traitor;
a vengeance generally practiced with impunity, by reason
of its privacy. The court, therefore, disclaims the power
of changing the relation in which these parts of our people
stand to each other.
"I repeat, that I would gladly have avoided this un
grateful question. But being brought to it, the court is
compelled to declare that while slavery exists amongst us
in its present state, or until it shall seem fit to the legisla
ture to interpose express enactments to the contrary, it
will be the imperative duty of the judges to recognize the
full dominion of the owner over the slave, except where
the exercise of it is forbidden by statute.
"And this we do upon the ground that this dominion is
essential to the value of slaves as property, to the security
of the master and the public tranquillity, greatly dependent
upon their subordination; and, in fine, as most effectually
securing the general protection and comfort of the slaves
themselves. Judgment below reversed; and judgment
entered for the defendant."
During the delivery of the decision Clayton s eyes, by
accident, became fixed upon Harry, who was standing
opposite to him, and who listened through the whole with
breathless attention. He observed, as it went on, that
Harry s face became pale, his brow clouded, and that a fierce
and peculiar expression flashed from his dark blue eye.
Never had Clayton so forcibly realized the horrors of sla
very as when he heard them thus so calmly defined in the
presence of one into whose soul the iron had entered. The
tones of Judge Clayton s voice, so passionless, clear, and
deliberate; the solemn, calm, unflinching earnestness of
his words were more than a thousand passionate appeals.
In the dead silence that followed Clayton rose, and re
quested permission of the court to be allowed to say a few
446 DEED
words in view of the decision. His father looked slightly
surprised, and there was a little movement among the
judges. But curiosity, perhaps, among other reasons, led
the court to give consent. Clayton spoke :
"I hope it will not be considered a disrespect or imper
tinence for me to say that the law of slavery and the
nature of that institution have for the first time been made
known to me to-day in their true character. I had before
nattered myself with the hope that it might be considered
a guardian institution, by which a stronger race might
assume the care and instruction of the weaker one; and
I had hoped that its laws were capable of being so admin
istered as to protect the defenseless. This illusion is
destroyed. I see but too clearly now the purpose and
object of the law. I cannot, therefore, as a Christian
man, remain in the practice of law in a slave state. I
therefore relinquish the profession into which I have just
been inducted, and retire forever from the bar of my native
state."
" There ! there ! there he goes ! " said Frank Russel.
"The sticking-point has come at last. His conscience is
up, and start him now who can ! "
There was a slight motion of surprise in the court and
audience. But Judge Clayton sat with unmoved serenity.
The words had struck to the depth of his soul. They had
struck at the root of one of his strongest hopes in life.
But he had listened to them with the same calm and punc
tilious attention which it was his habit to give to every
speaker; and with unaltered composure, he proceeded to
the next business of the court.
A step so unusual occasioned no little excitement. But
Clayton was not one of the class of people to whom his
associates generally felt at liberty to express their opinions
of his conduct. The quiet reserve of his manners discour
aged any such freedom. As usual, in cases where a person
THE LEGAL DECISION 447
takes an uncommon course from conscientious motives,
Clayton was severely criticised. The more trifling among
the audience contented themselves with using the good set
phrases, quixotic, absurd, ridiculous. The elder lawyers,
and those friendly to Clayton, shook their heads, and said,
rash, precipitate, unadvised. "There s a want of ballast
about him, somewhere ! " said one. " He is unsound ! " said
another. " Radical and impracticable ! " added a third.
"Yes," said Frank Russel, who had just come up,
"Clayton is as radical and impracticable as the Sermon on
the Mount, and that 7 s the most impracticable thing I
know of in literature. We all can serve God and Mam
mon. We have discovered that happy medium in our
day. Clayton is behind the times. He is Jewish in his
notions. Don t you think so, Mr. Titmarsh?" addressing
the Rev. Mr. Titmarsh.
"It strikes me that our young friend is extremely
ultra," said Mr. Titmarsh. "I might feel disposed to
sympathize with him in the feelings he expressed, to some
extent; but it having pleased the Divine Providence to
establish the institution of slavery, I humbly presume it is
not competent for human reason to judge of it."
"And if it had pleased the Divine Providence to have
established the institution of piracy, you d say the same
thing, I suppose ! " said Frank Russel.
"Certainly, my young friend," said Mr. Titmarsh.
"Whatever is divinely ordered becomes right by that
fact."
"I should think," said Frank Russel, "that things were
divinely ordered because they were right."
"No, my friend," replied Mr. Titmarsh moderately;
"they are right because they are ordered, however contrary
they may appear to any of our poor notions of justice and
humanity." And Mr. Titmarsh walked off.
" Did you hear that ? " said Russel. " And they expect
448 DEED
really to come it over us with stuff like that! Now, if a
fellow don t go to church Sundays, there s a dreadful out
cry against him for not being religious! And if they get
us there, that s the kind of thing they put down our
throats! As if they were going to make practical men
give in to such humbugs ! "
And the Rev. Mr. Titmarsh went off in another direc
tion, lamenting to a friend as follows :
"How mournfully infidelity is increasing among the
young men of our day! They quote Scripture with the
same freedom that they would a book of plays, and seem
to treat it with no more reverence! I believe it s the
want of catechetical instruction while they are children.
There s been a great falling back in the teaching of the
Assembly s Catechism to children when they are young!
I shall get that point up at the General Assembly. If
that were thoroughly committed when they are children,
I think they would never doubt afterwards."
Clayton went home and told his mother what he had
done, and why. His father had not spoken to him on
this subject; and there was that about Judge Clayton
which made it difficult to introduce a topic unless he sig
nified an inclination to enter upon it. He was, as usual,
calm, grave, and considerate, attending to every duty with
unwearying regularity.
At the end of the second day, in the evening, Judge
Clayton requested his son to walk in to his study. The
interview was painful on both sides.
"You are aware, my son," he said, "that the step you
have taken is a very painful one to me. I hope that it
was not taken precipitately, from any sudden impulse."
"You may rest assured it was not," said Clayton. "I
followed the deepest and most deliberate convictions of my
conscience."
"In that case, you could not do otherwise," replied
THE LEGAL DECISION 449
Judge Clayton. "I have no criticisms to make. But
will your conscience allow you to retain the position of a
slave-holder ? "
"I have already relinquished it," replied Clayton, "so
far as my own intentions are concerned. I retain the legal
relation of owner simply as a means of protecting my ser
vants from the cruelties of the law, and of securing the
opportunity to educate and elevate them."
"And suppose this course brings you into conflict with
the law of the state 1 " said Judge Clayton.
"If there is any reasonable prospect of having the law
altered, I must endeavor to do that," said Clayton.
"But," said Judge Clayton, "suppose the law is so
rooted in the nature of the institution that it cannot be
repealed without uprooting the institution ? What then ? "
"I say repeal the law if it do uproot the institution,"
said Clayton. " Mat justitia, ruat coelum.
"I supposed that would be your answer," said Judge
Clayton patiently. "That is undoubtedly the logical line
of life. But you are aware that communities do not follow
such lines; your course, therefore, will place you in oppo
sition to the community in which you live. Your con
scientious convictions will cross self-interest, and the com
munity will not allow you to carry them out."
"Then," said Clayton, "I must, with myself and rny
servants, remove to some region where I can do this."
"That I supposed would be the result," said Judge
Clayton. "And have you looked at the thing in all its
relations and consequences ? "
"I have," said Clayton.
"You are about to form a connection with Miss Gor
don," said Judge Clayton. "Have you considered how
this will affect her?"
"Yes," said Clayton. "Miss Gordon fully sustains me
in the course I have taken."
VOL. I.
450 DEED
"I have no more to say," said Judge Clayton. "Every
man must act up to his sense of duty."
There was a pause of a few moments, and Judge Clayton
added :
"You, perhaps, have seen the implication which your
course throws upon us who still continue to practice the
system and uphold the institution which you repudiate."
"I meant no implications," said Clayton.
"I presume not. But they result, logically, from your
course," said his father. "I assure you, I have often
myself pondered the question with reference to my own
duties. My course is a sufficient evidence that I have
not come to the same result. Human law is, at best, but
an approximation, a reflection of many of the ills of our
nature. Imperfect as it is, it is, on the whole, a blessing.
The worst system is better than anarchy."
"But, my father, why could you not have been a
reformer of the system ? "
"My son, no reform is possible, unless we are prepared
to give up the institution of slavery. That will be the
immediate result; and this is so realized by the instinct of
self-preservation, which is unfailing in its accuracy, that
every such proposition will be ignored, till there is a
settled conviction in the community that the institution
itself is a moral evil, and a sincere determination felt to be
free from it. I see no tendency of things in that direction.
That body of religious men of different denominations,
called, par excellence^ the church, exhibit a degree of
moral apathy on this subject which is to me very surpris
ing. It is with them that the training of the community,
on which any such reform could be built, must commence;
and I see no symptoms of their undertaking it. The deci
sions and testimonies of the great religious assemblies in
the land, in my youth, were frequent. They have grown
every year less and less decided; and now the morality of
THE LEGAL DECISION 451
the thing is openly defended in our pulpits, to my great
disgust. I see no way but that the institution will be
left to work itself out to its final result, which will, in
the end, be ruinous to our country. I am not myself gifted
with the talents of a reformer. My turn of mind fits me
for the situation I hold. I cannot hope that I have done
no harm in it; but the good, I hope, will outweigh the
evil. If you feel a call to enter on this course, fully un
derstanding the difficulties and sacrifices it would proba
bly involve, I would be the last one to throw the influence
of my private wishes and feelings into the scale. We live
here but a few years. It is of more consequence that we
should do right than that we should enjoy ourselves. 7
Judge Clayton spoke this with more emotion than he
usually exhibited, and Clayton was much touched.
"My dear father," he said, putting Nina s note into his
hand, "you made allusion to Miss Gordon. This note,
which I received from her on the morning of your decision,
will show you what her spirit is."
Judge Clayton put on his spectacles, and read over the
note deliberately, twice. He then handed it formally to
his son, and remarked, with his usual brevity,
"She will do!"
CHAPTER XXXIV
THE CLOUD BURSTS
THE shadow of that awful cloud which had desolated
other places now began to darken the boundaries of the
plantation of Canema. No disease has ever more fully
filled out the meaning of those awful words of Scripture,
"The pestilence that walketh in darkness." None has
been more irregular, and apparently more perfectly capri
cious, in its movements. During the successive seasons
that it has been epidemic in this country, it has seemed to
have set at defiance the skill of the physicians. The sys
tem of medical tactics which has been wrought out by the
painful experience of one season seems to be laughed to
scorn by the varying type of the disease in the next.
Certain sanitary laws and conditions would seem to be
indispensable; yet those who are familiar with it have had
fearful experience how like a wolf it will sometimes leap
the boundaries of the best and most carefully guarded fold,
and, spite of every caution and protection, sweep all before
it.
Its course through towns and villages has been equally
singular. Sometimes descending like a cloud on a neigh
borhood, it will leave a single village or town untouched
amidst the surrounding desolations, and long after, when
health is restored to the whole neighborhood, come down
suddenly on the omitted towns, as a ravaging army sends
back a party for prey to some place which has been over
looked or forgotten. Sometimes, entering a house, in
twenty-four hours it will take all who are in it. Some-
THE CLOUD BURSTS 453
times it will ravage all the city except some one street or
locality, and then come upon that, while all else is spared.
Its course, upon southern plantations, was marked by
similar capriciousness, and was made still more fatal by
that peculiar nature of plantation life which withdraws the
inmates so far from medical aid.
When the first letters were received describing the pro
gress of it in northern cities, Aunt Nesbit felt much uneasi
ness and alarm. It is remarkable with what tenacity
people often will cling to life, whose enjoyments in it are
so dull and low that a bystander would scarcely think
them worth the struggle of preservation. When at length
the dreaded news began to be heard from one point and
another in their vicinity, Aunt Nesbit said, one day, to
Nina,
" Your cousins, the Gordons, in E , have written to
us to leave the plantation, and come and spend some time
with them till the danger is over."
"Why," said Nina, "do they think the cholera can t
come there 1 "
"Well," said Aunt Nesbit, "they have their family
under most excellent regulations; and living in a town
so, they are within call of a doctor, if anything happens."
"Aunt," said Nina, "perhaps you had better go; but
I will stay with my people."
"Why, don t you feel afraid, Nina?"
"No, aunt, I don t. Besides, I think it would be very
selfish for me to live on the services of my people all my
life, and then run away and leave them alone when a time
of danger comes. The least I can do is to stay and take
care of them."
This conversation was overheard by Harry, who was
standing with his back to them, on the veranda, near the
parlor door where they were sitting.
"Child," said Aunt Nesbit, "what do you suppose you
454 DEED
can do? You haven t any experience. Harry and Milly
can do a great deal better than you can. I 11 leave Milly
here. It s our first duty to take care of our health."
"No, aunt, I think there are some duties before that,"
said Nina. "It s true I haven t a great deal of strength,
but I have courage; and I know my going away would
discourage our people, and fill them with fear; and that,
they say, predisposes to the disease. I shall get the
carriage up, and go directly over to see the doctor, and get
directions and medicines. I shall talk to our people, and
teach them what to do, and see that it is done. And
when they see that I am calm, and not afraid, they will
have courage. But, aunt, if you are afraid, I think you
had better go. You are feeble; you can t make much
exertion; and if you feel any safer or more comfortable, I
think it would be best. I should like to have Milly stay,
and she, Harry, and I, will be a board of health to the
plantation.
"Harry," she said, "if you 11 get up the carriage, we 11
go immediately."
Again Harry felt the bitterness of his soul sweetened
and tranquillized by the noble nature of her to whose
hands the law had given the chain which bound him.
Galling and intolerable as it would have been otherwise,
he felt, when with her, that her service was perfect free
dom. He had not said anything to Nina about the con
tents of the letter which he had received from his sister.
He saw that it was an evil which she had no power over,
and he shrank from annoying her with it. Nina supposed
that his clouded and troubled aspect was caused wholly by
the solicitude of responsibility.
In the same carriage which conveyed her to the town
sat Aunt Nesbit also, and her cap-boxes, whose importance
even the fear of the cholera could not lessen in her eyes.
Nina found the physician quite au fait on the subject.
THE CLOUD BURSTS 455
He had been reading about miasma and animalcule, and
he entertained Nina nearly half an hour with different
theories as to the cause of the disease, and with the experi
ments which had been made in foreign hospitals.
Among the various theories there was one which ap
peared to be his particular pet; and Nina couldn t help
thinking, as he stepped about so alertly, that he almost
enjoyed the prospect of putting his discoveries to the test.
By dint, however, of very practical and positive questions,
Nina drew from him all the valuable information which he
had to give her; and he wrote her a very full system of
directions, and put up a case of medicines for her, assuring
her that he should be happy to attend in person if he had
time.
On the way home Nina stopped at Uncle John Gordon s
plantation, and there had the first experience of the differ
ence between written directions for a supposed case and
the actual, awful realities of the disease. Her Uncle John
had been seized only half an hour before, in the most
awful manner. The household was all in terror and confu
sion, and the shrieks and groans of agony which proceeded
from his room were appalling. His wife, busy with the
sufferer, did not perceive that the messengers who had
been sent in haste for the doctor were wringing their hands
in fruitless terror, running up and down the veranda, and
doing nothing.
"Harry," said Nina, "take out one of the carriage-
horses, and ride quick for your life, and bring the doctor
over here in a minute ! "
In a few moments the thing was done, and Harry was
out of sight. She then walked up to the distracted ser
vants, and commanded them, in a tone of authority, to
cease their lamentations. Her resolute manner, and the
quiet tone of voice which she preserved, acted as a sedative
on their excited nerves. She banished all but two or
456 DEED
three of the most reasonable from the house, and then
went to the assistance of her aunt.
Before long the doctor arrived. When he had been in
the sick room a few moments, he came out to make some
inquiries of Nina, and she could not help contrasting the
appalled and confounded expression of his countenance
with the dapper, consequential air, with which, only two
hours before he had been holding forth to her on animal
cules and miasma.
"The disease," he said, "presented itself in an entirely
different aspect from what he had expected. The reme
dies," he said, "did not work as he anticipated; the case
was a peculiar one."
Alas ! before the three months were over, poor doctor,
you found many peculiar cases !
"Do you think you can save his life? " said Nina.
"Child, only God can save him!" said the physician;
"nothing works right."
But why prolong the torture of that scene, or rehearse
the struggles, groans, and convulsions? Nina, poor flow
ery child of seventeen summers, stood with the rest in
mute despair. All was tried that could be done or
thought of; but the disease, like some blind, deaf de
stroyer, marched on, turning neither to right nor left, till
the cries and groans grew fainter, the convulsed muscles
relaxed, and the strong, florid man lay in the last stages
of that fearful collapse which in one hour shrivels the most
healthy countenance and the firmest muscles to the shrunken
and withered image of decrepit old age. When the breath
had passed, and all was over, Nina could scarcely believe
that that altered face and form, so withered and so worn,
could have been her healthy and joyous uncle, and who
never had appeared healthier and more joyous than on that
morning. But as a person passing under the foam and
spray of Niagara clings with blind confidence to a guide
THE CLOUD BUKSTS 457
whom he feels, but cannot see, Nina, in this awful hour,
felt that she was not alone. The Eedeemer, all-powerful
over death and the grave, of whom she had been thinking
so much of late, seemed to her sensibly near. And it
seemed to her as if a voice said to her continually, "Fear
not, for I am with thee. Be not dismayed, for I am thy
God."
"How calm you are, my child!" said Aunt Maria to
her. "I wouldn t have thought it was in you. I don t
know what we should do without you."
But now a frightful wail was heard.
"Oh, we are all dying! we are all going! Oh, missis,
come quick! Peter has got it! Oh, daddy has got it!
Oh, my child ! my child ! "
And the doctor, exhausted as he was by the surprise
and excitement of this case, began flying from one to an
other of the cabins, in the greatest haste. Two or three
of the house servants also seemed to be struck -in the same
moment, and only the calmness and courage which Nina
and her aunt maintained prevented a general abandonment
to panic. Nina possessed that fine, elastic temperament
which, with the appearance of extreme delicacy, possesses
great powers of endurance. The perfect calmness which
she felt enabled her to bring all her faculties to bear on
the emergency.
"My good aunty, you mustn t be afraid! Bring out
your religion; trust in God," she said to the cook, who
was wringing her hands in terror. " Remember your reli
gion; sing some of your hymns, and do your duty to the
sick."
There is a magic power in the cheerful tone of courage,
and Nina succeeded in rallying the well ones to take care
of the sick; but now came a messenger, in hot haste, to
say that the cholera had broken out on the plantation at
home.
458 DEED
"Well, Harry, 7 said Nina, with a face pale, yet un
moved, "our duty calls us away."
And accompanied by the weary physician, they prepared
to go back to Canema. Before they had proceeded far, a
man met them on horseback.
"Is Dr. Butler with you?"
"Yes," said Nina, putting her head out of the car
riage.
"Oh, Doctor, I ve been riding all over the country after
you. You must come back to town this minute ! Judge
Peters is dying! I m afraid he is dead before this time,
and there s a dozen more cases right in that street. Here,
get on to my horse, and ride for your life."
The doctor hastily sprang from the carriage, and mounted
the horse; then stopping a moment, he cast a look of
good-natured pity on the sweet, pale face that was lean
ing out of the carriage window.
"My poor child," he said, "I can t bear to leave you.
Who will help you 1 "
"God," said Nina; "I am not afraid!"
"Come, come," said the man, "do hurry!" And with
one hasty glance more he was gone.
"Now, Harry," said Nina, "everything depends upon
our keeping up our courage and our strength. W r e shall
have no physician. We must just do the best we can.
After all, it is our Lord Jesus that has the keys of death,
and he loved us and died for us. He will certainly be
with us."
"Oh, Miss Nina, you are an angel!" said Harry, who
felt at that moment as if he could have worshiped her.
Arrived at home, Nina found a scene of terror and con
fusion similar to that she had already witnessed. Old
Hundred lay dead in his cabin, and the lamenting crowd,
gathering round, were yielding to the full tide of fear and
excitement, which predisposed them to the same fate.
THE CLOUD BURSTS 459
Nina rode up immediately to the group. She spoke to
them calmly; she silenced their outcries, and bade them
obey her.
"If you wish, all of you, to die," she said, "this is the
way towards it; but if you ll keep quiet and calm, and
do what ought to be done, your lives may be saved.
Harry and I have got medicines we understand what to
do. You must follow our directions exactly."
Nina immediately went to the house, and instructed
Milly, Aunt Rose, and two or three of the elderly wo
men in the duties to be done. Milly rose up, in this
hour of terror, with all the fortitude inspired by her strong
nature.
"Bress de Lord," she said, "for his grace to you, chile!
De Lord is a shield. He s been wid us in six troubles,
and he 11 be wid us in seven. We can sing in de swell
ings of Jordan."
Harry, meanwhile, was associating to himself a band of
the most reliable men on the place, and endeavoring in the
same manner to organize them for action. A messenger
was dispatched immediately to the neighboring town for
unlimited quantities of the most necessary medicines and
stimulants. The plantation was districted off, and placed
under the care of leaders, who held communication with
Harry. In the course of two or three hours, the appalling
scene of distress and confusion was reduced to the resolute
and orderly condition of a well-managed hospital.
Milly walked the rounds in every direction, appealing to
the religious sensibilities of the people, and singing hymns
of trust and confidence. She possessed a peculiar voice,
suited to her large development of physical frame, almost
as deep as a man s bass, with the rich softness of a femi
nine tone; and Nina could now and then distinguish, as
she was moving about the house or grounds, that trium
phant tone, singing :
460 DEED
" God is my sun,
And he my shade,
To guard my head,
By night or noon.
Hast thou not given thy word
To save my soul from death ?
And I can trust my Lord,
To keep my mortal breath,
I Ml go and come,
Nor fear to die,
Till from on high
Thou call me home."
The house that night presented the aspect of a belea
guered garrison. Nina and Milly had thrown open all the
chambers; and such as were peculiarly exposed to the
disease, by delicacy of organization or tremulousness of
nervous system, were allowed to take shelter there.
"Now, chile," said Milly, when all the arrangements
had been made, "you jes lie down and go to sleep in yer
own room. I see how tis with you; de spirit is willing,
but de flesh is weak. Chile, dere isn t much of you, but
dere won t nothing go widout you. So, you take care of
yerself first. Never you be fraid! De people s quiet
now, and de sick ones is ben took care of, and de folks is
all doing de best dey can. So, now, you try and get some
sleep; cause if you goes we shall all go."
Accordingly Nina retired to her room, but before she
lay down she wrote to Clayton :
We are all in affliction here, my dear friend. Poor
Uncle John died this morning of the cholera. I had been
to E to see a doctor and provide medicines. When
I came back I thought I would call a few moments at the
house, and I found a perfect scene of horror. Poor uncle
died, and there are a great many sick on the place now;
and while I was thinking that I would stay and help aunt,
a messenger came in all haste, saying that the disease had
broken out on our place at home.
THE CLOUD BURSTS 461
We were bringing the doctor with us in our carriage,
when we met a man riding full speed from E , who told
us that Judge Peters was dying, and a great many others
were sick on the same street. When we came home we
found the poor old coachman dead, and the people in the
greatest consternation. It took us some time to tranquil
lize them and to produce order, but that is now done.
Our house is full of the sick and the fearful ones. Milly
and Harry are firm and active, and inspire the rest with
courage. About twenty are taken with the disease, but
not as yet in a violent way. In this awful hour I feel a
strange peace, which the Bible truly says "passeth all
understanding." I see, now, that though the world and
all that is in it should perish, " Christ can give us a beau
tiful immortal life." I write to you because, perhaps, this
may be the only opportunity. If I die, do not mourn for
me, but thank God, who giveth us the victory through our
Lord Jesus Christ. But then, I trust, I shall not die.
I hope to live in this world, which is more than ever beau
tiful to me. Life has never been so valuable and dear as
since I have known you. Yet I have such trust in the
love of my Redeemer, that, if lie were to ask me to lay
it down, I could do it almost without a sigh. I would
follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth. Perhaps the
same dreadful evil is around you, perhaps at Magnolia
Grove. I will not be selfish in calling you here, if Anne
needs you more. Perhaps she has not such reliable help
as Harry and Milly are to me. So do not fear, and do not
leave any duty for me. Our Father loves us, and will do
nothing amiss. Milly walks about the entries singing. I
love to hear her sing, she sings in such a grand triumphant
tone. Hark, I hear her now !
" I 11 go and come,
Nor fear to die,
Till from on high
Thou call me home."
462 DEED
I shall write you every mail, now, till we are better.
Living or dying, ever your own
NINA.
After writing this, Nina lay down and slept slept all
night as quietly as if death and disease were not hanging
over her head. In the morning she rose and dressed her
self, and Milly, with anxious care, brought to her room
some warm coffee and crackers, which she insisted on her
taking before she left her apartment.
"How are they all, Milly?" said Nina.
"Well, chile," said Milly, "de midnight cry has been
heard among us. Aunt Hose is gone ; and Big Sam, and
Jack, and Sally, dey s all gone; but de people is all more
quiet, love, and dey s determined to stand it out! "
"How is Harry? " said Nina in a tremulous voice.
"He isn t sick; he has been up all night working over
de sick, but he keeps up good heart. De older ones is
going to have a little prayer-meeting after breakfast, as a
sort of funeral to dem dat s dead; and, perhaps, Miss
Nina, you d read us a chapter."
"Certainly I will," said Nina.
It was yet an early hour, when a large circle of family
and plantation hands gathered together in the pleasant,
open saloon, which we have so often described. The day
was a beautiful one; the leaves and shrubbery round the
veranda moist and tremulous with the glittering freshness
of morning dew. There was a murmur of tenderness and
admiration as Nina, in a white morning- wrapper, and a
cheek as white, came into the room.
"Sit down, all my friends," she said, "sit down," look
ing at some of the plantation men, who seemed to be diffi
dent about taking the sofa, which was behind them; "it s
no time for ceremony now. We are standing on the brink
of the grave, Avhere all are equal. I m glad to see you so
THE CLOUD BURSTS 463
calm and so brave. I hope your trust is in the Saviour,
who gives us the victory over death. Sing," she said.
Milly hegan the well-known hymn :
" And must this feeble body fail,
And must it faint and die ?
My soul shall quit this gloomy vale,
And soar to realms on high ;
" Shall join the disembodied saints,
And find its long-sought rest;
That only rest for which it pants,
On the Redeemer s breast."
Every voice joined, and the words rose triumphant from
the very gates of the grave. When the singing was over,
Nina, in a tremulous voice, which grew clearer as she went
on, read the undaunted words of the ancient psalm :
" He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High
shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say
of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress. My God,
in him will I trust. Surely he shall deliver thee from the
snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence. He
shall cover thee with his feathers. Under his wings shalt
thou trust. Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by
night, nor for the arrow that flieth by day, nor for the
pestilence that walketh in darkness, nor for the destruction
that wasteth at noonday. A thousand shall fall by thy
side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not
come nigh thee. He shall give his angels charge over
thee to keep thee in all thy ways.
"It is possible," said Nina, "that we may, some of us,
be called away. But to those that love Christ, there is
no fear in death. It is only going home to our Father.
Keep up courage, then ! "
In all cases like this, the first shock brings with it more
terror than any which succeeds. The mind can become
familiar with anything, even with the prospect of danger
and death, so that it can appear to be an ordinary condi-
464 DEED
tion of existence. Everything proceeded calmly on the
plantation; and all, stimulated by the example of their
young mistress, seemed determined to meet the exigency
firmly and faithfully. In the afternoon of the second day,
as Nina was sitting in the door, she observed the wagon
of Uncle Tiff making its way up the avenue; and with
her usual impulsiveness, ran down to meet her humble
friend.
" Oh, Tiff, how do you do, in these dreadful times ! "
"Oh, Miss Nina," said the faithful creature, removing
his hat, with habitual politeness, "ef yer please, I s
brought de baby here, cause it s drefful sick, and I s
been doing all I could for him, and he don t get no better.
And I s brought Miss Fanny and Teddy, cause I s fraid
to leave em, cause I see a man yesterday, and he tell me
dey was dying eberywhar on all de places round."
"Well," said Nina, "you have come to a sorrowful
place, for they are dying here, too ! But if you feel any
safer here, you and the children may stay, and we 11 do
for you just as we do for each other. Give me the baby
while you get out. It s asleep, is n t it? "
"Yes, Miss Nina, it s sleep pretty much all de time,
now."
Nina carried it up the steps, and put it into the arms of
Milly.
"It s sleeping nicely," she said.
"Ah, honey!" said Milly, "it ll neber wake up out of
dat ar! Dat ar sleep ain t de good kind! "
"Well," said Nina, "we 11 help him take care of it, and
we 11 make room for him and the children, Milly; because
we have medicines and directions, and they have nothing
out there."
So Tiff and his family took shelter in the general for
tress. Towards evening the baby died. Tiff held it in
his arms to the very last; and it was with difficulty that
THE CLOUD BURSTS 465
Nina and Milly could persuade him that the little flicker
ing breath was gone forever. When forced to admit it,
he seemed for a few moments perfectly inconsolable. Nina
quietly opened her Testament, and read to him :
"And they brought little children unto him, that he
should touch them; and his disciples rebuked those that
brought them. But Jesus said, Suffer little children to
come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the
kingdom of heaven."
"Bressed Lord!" said Tiff, "I ll gib him up, I will!
I won t hold out no longer! I won t forbid him to go, if
it does break my old heart! Laws, we s drefful selfish!
But de por little ting, he was getting so pretty ! "
VOL. I.
CHAPTER XXXV
THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS
CLAYTON was quietly sitting in his law office, looking
over and arranging some papers necessary to closing his
business. A colored boy brought in letters from the mail.
He looked them over rapidly; and selecting one, read it
with great agitation and impatience. Immediately he
started, with the open letter crushed in his hand, seized
his hat, and rushed to the nearest livery stable.
" Give me the fastest horse you have one that can
travel night and day!" he said. "I must ride for life or
death!"
And half an hour more saw Clayton in full speed on
the road. By the slow, uncertain, and ill-managed mail
route, it would have taken three days to reach Canema.
Clayton hoped, by straining every nerve, to reach there in
twenty-four hours. He pushed forward, keeping the ani
mal at the top of his speed; and at the first stage-stand,
changed him for a fresh one. And thus proceeding along,
he found himself, at three o clock of the next morning, in
the woods about fifteen miles from Canema. The strong
tension of the nervous system, which had upheld him
insensible to fatigue until this point, was beginning slightly
to subside. All night he had ridden through the loneli
ness of pine forests, with no eye looking down on him save
the twinkling mysterious stars. At the last place where
he had sought to obtain horses everything had been horror
and confusion. Three were lying dead in the house, and
another was dying.
THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS 467
All along upon the route, at every stopping-place, the
air had seemed to be filled with flying rumors and exag
gerated reports of fear and death. As soon as he began to
perceive that he was approaching the plantation he became
sensible of that shuddering dread, which all of us may
remember to have had, in slight degrees, in returning home
after a long absence, under a vague expectation of misfor
tune, to which the mind can set no definite limits. When
it was yet scarcely light enough to see, he passed by the
cottage of Old Tiff. A strange impulse prompted him to
stop and make some inquiries there before he pushed on
to the plantation. But as he rode up, he saw the gate
standing ajar, the door of the house left open; and after
repeated callings, receiving no answer, he alighted, and
leading his horse behind him, looked into the door. The
gloaming starlight was just sufficient to show him that all
was desolate. Somehow this seemed to him like an evil
omen. As he was mounting his horse, preparing to ride
away, a grand and powerful voice rose from the obscurity
of the woods before him, singing in a majestic, minor-keyed
tune, these words :
" Throned on a cloud our God shall come,
Bright flames prepare his way ;
Thunder and darkness, fire and storm,
Lead on the dreadful day ! "
Wearied with his night ride, his nervous system strained
to the last point of tension by the fearful images which
filled his mind, it is not surprising that these sounds
should have thrilled through the hearer with even a super
stitious power. And Clayton felt a singular excitement,
as, under the dim arcade of the pine-trees, he saw a dark
figure approaching. He seemed to be marching with a regu
lar tread, keeping time to the mournful music which he sung.
" Who are you ? " called Clayton, making an effort to
recall his manhood.
468 DEED
" I ? " replied the figure, " I am the voice of one crying
in the wilderness ! I am a sign unto this people of the
judgment of the Lord ! "
Our readers must remember the strange dimness of the
hour, the wildness of the place and circumstances, and the
singular quality of the tone in which the figure spoke.
Clayton hesitated a moment, and the speaker went on:
" I saw the Lord coming with ten thousand of his saints !
Before him went the pestilence, and burning coals went
forth at his feet ! Thy bow is made quite naked, God,
according to the oaths of the tribes! I saw the tents of
Cushan in affliction, and the curtains of the land of Midian
did tremble ! "
Pondering in his mind what this wild style of address
might mean, Clayton rode slowly onward. And the man,
for such he appeared to be, came out of the shadows of the
wood and stood directly in his path, raising his hand with
a commanding gesture.
"I know whom you seek," he said; "but it shall not
be given you; for the star, which is called wormwood,
hath fallen, and the time of the dead is come, that they
shall be judged ! Behold, there sitteth on the white cloud
one like the Son of Man, having on his head a golden
crown, and in his hand a sharp sickle ! "
Then waving his hand above his head, with a gesture
of wild excitement, he shouted: "Thrust in thy sharp
sickle, and gather the clusters of the vine of the earth, for
her grapes are fully ripe ! Behold, the winepress shall
be trodden without the city, and there shall be blood even
to the horses bridles ! Woe, woe, woe to the inhabitants
of the earth, because of the trumpets of the other angels,
which are yet to sound ! "
The fearful words pealed through the dim aisles of the
forest like the curse of some destroying angel. After a
pause, the speaker resumed, in a lower and more plaintive
THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS 469
tone: "Weep ye not for the dead! neither bewail her!
Behold, the Lamb standeth on Mount Zion, and with him
a hundred and forty and four thousand, having his
Father s name written on their foreheads. These are they
which follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth; and in
their mouth is found no guile, for they are without fault
before the throne of God. Behold the angel having the
seal of God is gone forth, and she shall be sealed in her
forehead unto the Lamb."
The figure turned away slowly, singing, as he made his
way through the forest, in the same weird and funereal
accents; but this time the song was a wild, plaintive
sound, like the tolling of a heavy bell :
"Ding dong ! dead and gone!
Farewell, father !
Bury me in Egypt s land,
By my dear mother !
Ding, dong ! ding, dong !
Dead and gone ! "
Clayton, as he slowly wound his way along the unfre
quented path, felt a dim, brooding sense of mystery and
terror creeping over him. The tones of the voice, and the
wild style of the speaker, recalled the strange incident of
the camp-meeting; and though he endeavored strenuously
to reason with himself that probably some wild and excited
fanatic, made still more frantic by the presence of death
and destruction all around, was the author of these fearful
denunciations, still he could not help a certain weight of
fearful foreboding.
This life may be truly called a haunted house, built as
it is on the very confines of the land of darkness and the
shadow of death. A thousand living fibres connect us
with the unknown and unseen state; and the strongest
hearts, which never stand still for any mortal terror, have
sometimes hushed their very beating at a breath of a
whisper from within the veil. Perhaps the most resolute
470 DEED
unbeliever in spiritual things has hours of which he would
be ashamed to tell, when he, too, yields to the powers of
those awful affinities which bind us to that unknown
realm.
It is not surprising that Clayton, in spite of himself,
should have felt like one mysteriously warned. It was
a relief to him when the dusky dimness of the solemn
dawn was pierced by long shafts of light from the ris
ing sun, and the day broke gladsome and jubilant, as if
sorrow, sighing, and death were a dream of the night.
During the whole prevalence of this fearful curse, it was
strange to witness the unaltered regularity, splendor, and
beauty with which the movements of the natural world
went on. Amid fears, and dying groans, and wailings,
and sobs, and broken hearts, the sun rose and set in splen
dor, the dews twinkled, and twilight folded her purple
veil heavy with stars; birds sang, waters danced and
warbled, flowers bloomed, and everything in nature was
abundant, and festive, and joyous.
When Clayton entered the boundaries of the plantation,
he inquired eagerly of the first person he met for the
health of its mistress. "Thank God, she is yet alive!"
said he. "It was but a dream, after all! "
CHAPTER XXXVI
THE EVENING STAB
THE mails in the State of North Carolina, like the pru
dential arrangements of the slave states generally, were
very little to be depended upon; and therefore a week had
elapsed after the mailing of Nina s first letter, describing
the danger of her condition, before it was received by
Clayton. During that time the fury of the shock which
had struck the plantation appeared to have abated; and
while on some estates in the vicinity it was yet on the
increase, the inhabitants of Canema began to hope that the
awful cloud was departing from them. It was true that
many were still ailing; but there were no new cases, and
the disease in the case of those who were ill appeared to
be yielding to nursing and remedies.
Nina had risen in the morning early, as her custom had
been since the sickness, and gone the rounds, to inquire
for the health of her people. Returned, a little fatigued,
she was sitting in the veranda, under the shadow of one
of the pillar-roses, enjoying the cool freshness of the morn
ing. Suddenly the tramp of horse s feet was heard, and
looking, she saw Clayton coming up the avenue. There
seemed but a dizzy, confused moment before his horse s
bridle was thrown to the winds, and he was up the steps,
holding her in his arms.
"Oh, you are here yet, my rose, my bride, my lamb!
God is merciful! This is too much! Oh, I thought you
were gone ! "
"No, dear, not yet," said Nina. "God has been with
472 DEED
us. We have lost a great many; but God has spared me
to you."
"Are you really well?" said Clayton, holding her off,
and looking at her. " You look pale, my little rose ! "
"That s not wonderful," said Nina; "I ve had a great
deal to make me look pale; but I am very well. I have
been well through it all never in better health and
it seems strange to say it, but never happier. I have felt
so peaceful, so sure of God s love! "
"Do you know," said Clayton, "that that peace alarms
me that strange, unearthly happiness ? It seems so like
what is given to dying people."
"No," said Nina, "I think that when we have no one
but our Father to lean on, he comes nearer than he does
any other time; and that is the secret of this happiness.
But come, you look woefully tired ; have you been riding
all night?"
"Yes, ever since yesterday morning at nine o clock. I
have ridden down four horses to get to you. Only think,
I didn t get your letter till a week after it was dated! "
"Well, perhaps that was the best," said Nina; "because
I have heard them say that anybody coming suddenly and
unprepared in the epidemic, when it is in full force, is
almost sure to be taken by it immediately. But you must
let me take care of you. Don t you know that I m mis
tress of the fortress here commander-in-chief and head
physician? I shall order you to your room immediately,
and Milly shall bring you up some coffee, and then you
must have some sleep. You can see with your eyes, now,
that we are all safe, and there s nothing to hinder your
resting. Come, let me lead you off, like a captive."
Released from the pressure of overwhelming fear, Clay
ton began now to feel the reaction of the bodily and mental
straining which he had been enduring for the last twenty-
four hours, and therefore he willingly yielded himself to
THE EVENING STAR 473
the directions of his little sovereign. Retired to his room,
after taking his coffee, which was served by Milly, he fell
into a deep and tranquil sleep, which lasted till some time
in the afternoon. At first, overcome by fatigue, he slept
without dreaming; but when the first weariness was past,
the excitement of the nervous system, under which he had
been laboring, began to color his dreams with vague and
tumultuous images. He thought that he was again with
Nina at Magnolia Grove, and that the servants were pass
ing around in procession, throwing flowers at their feet;
but the wreath of orange-blossoms which fell in Nina s lap
was tied with black crape. But she took it up, laughing,
threw the crape away, and put the wreath on her head,
and he heard the chorus singing :
" Oh, de North Carolina rose !
Oh, de North Carolina rose ! "
And then the sound seemed to change to one of lamenta
tion, and the floral procession seemed to be a funeral, and
a deep, melancholy voice, like the one he had heard in the
woods in the morning, sang :
" Weep, for the rose is withered !
The North Carolina rose ! "
He struggled heavily in his sleep, and at last waking,
sat up and looked about him. The rays of the evening
sun were shining on the treetops of the distant avenue,
and Nina was singing on the veranda below. He listened,
and the sound floated up like a rose leaf carried on a
breeze :
" The summer hath its heavy cloud,
The rose leaf must fall ;
But in our land joy wears no shroud,
Never doth it pall !
Each new morning ray
Leaves no sigh for yesterday
No smile passed away
Would we recall ! "
The tune was a favorite melody, which has found much
474 DEED
favor with the popular ear, and bore the title of "The
Hindoo Dancing-Girl s Song;" and is, perhaps, a frag
ment of one of those mystical songs in which Oriental lit
erature abounds, in which the joy and reunion of earthly
love are told in shadowy, symbolic resemblance to the
everlasting union of the blessed above. It had a wild,
dreamy, soothing power, as verse after verse came floating
in, like white doves from paradise, as if they had borne
healing on their wings :
" Then haste to the happy land,
Where sorrow is unknown;
But first in a joyous band,
I 11 make thee my own.
Haste, haste, fly with me
Where love s banquet waits for thee ;
Thine all its sweets shall be,
Thine, thine, alone ! "
A low tap at his door at last aroused him. The door
was partly opened, and a little hand threw in a half-
opened spray of monthly rosebuds.
"There s something to remind you that you are yet in
the body! " said a voice in the entry. "If you are rested,
I ll let you come down, now." And Clayton heard the
light footsteps tripping down the stairs. He roused him
self, and after some little attention to his toilet, appeared
on the veranda.
"Tea has been waiting for some time," said Nina. "I
thought I d give you a hint."
"I was lying very happy, hearing you sing," said Clay
ton. "You may sing me that song again."
"Was I singing 1 ? " said Nina; "why I didn t know it!
I believe that s my way of thinking, sometimes. I 11
sing to you again, after tea. I like to sing."
After tea they were sitting again in the veranda, and
the whole heavens were one rosy flush of filmy clouds.
" How beautiful !" said Nina. "It seems to me I ve
THE EVENING STAR 475
enjoyed these things, this summer, as I never have before.
It seemed as if I felt an influence from them going through
me, and filling me, as the light does those clouds."
And as she stood looking up into the sky, she began
singing again the words that Clayton had heard before:
" I am come from the happy land,
Where sorrow is unknown;
I have parted a joyous band,
To make thee mine own!
Haste, haste, fly with me,
Where love s banquet waits for thee;
Thine all its sweets shall be,
Thine, thine, alone !
" The summer hath its heavj cloud,
The rose leaf must fall "
She stopped her singing suddenly, left the veranda, and
went into the house.
"Do you want anything 1 " said Clayton.
"Nothing," said she hurriedly. "I ll be back in a
moment. "
Clayton watched, and saw her go to a closet in which
the medicines and cordials were kept, and take something
from a glass. He gave a start of alarm.
" You are not ill, are you 1 " he said fearfully, as she
returned.
" Oh no ; only a little faint. We have become so pru
dent, you know, that if we feel the least beginning of any
disagreeable sensation we take something at once. I have
felt this faintness quite often. It isn t much."
Clayton put his arm around her, and looked at her with
a vague yearning of fear and admiration.
"You look so like a spirit," he said, "that I must hold
you."
"Do you think I ve got a pair of hidden wings? " she
said, smiling, and looking gayly in his face.
"I am afraid so!" he said. "Do you feel quite well,
now 1 "
476 DEED
"Yes, I believe so. Only, perhaps, we had better sit
down. I think, perhaps, it is the reaction of so much
excitement makes me feel rather tired."
Clayton seated her on the settee by the door, still keep
ing his arm anxiously around her. In a few moments she
drooped her head wearily on his shoulder.
" You are ill ! " he said in tones of alarm.
"No, no! I feel very well only a little faint and
tired. It seems to me it is getting a little cold here,
isn t it? " she said, with a slight shiver.
Clayton took her up in his arms, without speaking,
carried her in and laid her on the sofa, then rang for
Harry and Milly.
"Get a horse, instantly," he said to Harry, as soon as
he appeared, " and go for a doctor ! "
"There s no use in sending," said Nina; "he is driven
to death, and can t come. Besides, there s nothing the
matter with me, only I am a little tired and cold. Shut
the doors and windows, and cover me up. No, no, don t
take me upstairs! I like to lie here; just put a shawl
over me, that s all. I am thirsty, give me some
water ! "
The fearful and mysterious disease, which was then in
the ascendant, has many forms of approach and develop
ment. One, and the most deadly, is that which takes
place when a person has so long and gradually imbibed the
fatal poison of an infected atmosphere that the resisting
powers of nature have been insidiously and quietly subdued,
so that the subject sinks under it, without any violent out
ward symptom, by a quiet and certain yielding of the vital
powers, such as has been likened to the bleeding to death
by an internal wound. In this case, before an hour had
passed, though none of the violent and distressing symp
toms of the disease appeared, it became evident that the
seal of death was set on that fair young brow. A mes-
THE EVENING STAR 477
senger had been dispatched, riding with the desperate speed
which love and fear can give, but Harry remained in at
tendance.
"Nothing is the matter with me nothing is the mat
ter," she said, "except fatigue, and this change in the
weather. If I only had more over me ! and, perhaps, you
had better give me a little brandy, or some such thing.
This is water, isn t it, that you have been giving me? "
Alas! it was the strongest brandy; but there was no
taste, and the hartshorn that they were holding had no
smell. And there was no change in the weather; it was
only the creeping deadness, affecting the whole outer and
inner membrane of the system. Yet still her voice re
mained clear, though her mind occasionally wandered.
There is a strange impulse, which sometimes comes in
the restlessness and distress of dissolving nature, to sing;
and as she lay with her eyes closed, apparently in a sort
of trance, she would sing, over and over again, the verse
of the song which she was singing when the blow of the
unseen destroyer first struck her :
" The summer hath its heavy cloud,
The rose leaf must fall ;
But in our land joy wears no shroud,
Never doth it pall."
At last she opened her eyes, and seeing the agony of
all around, the tr^uth seemed to come to her. "I think
I m called!" she said. "Oh, I m so sorry for you all!
Don t grieve so; my Father loves me so well, he cannot
spare me any longer. He wants me to come to him.
That s all don t grieve so. It s home I m going to
home! Twill be only a little while, and you ll come
too, all of you. You are satisfied, are you not, Edward ? "
And again she relapsed into the dreamy trance, and
sang, in that strange, sweet voice, so low, so weak :
" In our land joy wears no shroud,
Never doth it pall."
478 DEED
Clayton, what did he 1 What could he do ? What
have any of us done, who have sat holding in our arms
a dear form, from which the soul was passing the soul
for which gladly we would have given our own in ex
change! When we have felt it going with inconceivable
rapidity from us; and we, ignorant and blind, vainly striv
ing, with this and that, to arrest the inevitable doom,
feeling every moment that some other thing might be done
to save, which is not done, and that that which we are
doing may be only hastening the course of the destroyer!
Oh, those awful, agonized moments, when we watch the
clock and no physician comes, and every stroke of the
pendulum is like the approaching step of death! Oh, is
there anything in heaven or earth for the despair of such
hours 1
Not a moment was lost by the three around that dying
bed, chafing those cold limbs, administering the stimulants
which the dead, exhausted system no longer felt.
"She doesn t suffer! Thank God, at any rate, for
that ! " said Clayton, as he knelt over her in anguish.
A beautiful smile passed over her face as she opened
her eyes and looked on them all, and said :
"No, my poor friends, I don t suffer. I m come to
the land where they never suffer. I m only so sorry for
you! Edward," she said to him, "do you remember what
you said to me once 1 It has come now. You must bear
it like a man. God calls you to some work don t shrink
from it. You are baptized with fire. It all lasts only a
little while. It will be over soon, very soon! Edward,
take care of my poor people. Tell Tom to be kind to
them. My poor, faithful, good Harry! Oh! I m going
so fast ! "
The voice sank into a whispering sigh. Life now
seemed to have retreated to the citadel of the brain. She
lay apparently in the last sleep, when the footsteps of the
THE EVENING STAR 479
doctor were heard on the veranda. There was a general
spring to the door, and Dr. Butler entered, pale, haggard,
and worn from constant exertion and loss of rest. He
did not say in words that there was no hope, but his first
dejected look said it but too plainly.
She moved her head a little, like one who is asleep
uneasily upon her pillow, opened her eyes once more, and
said, " Good-by ! I will arise and go to my Father ! "
The gentle breath gradually became fainter and fainter,
all hope was over ! The night walked on with silent
and solemn footsteps soft showers fell without, murmur
ing upon the leaves within, all was still as death !
" They watched her breathing through the night,
Her breathing soft and low,
As in her breast the wave of life
Kept heaving to and fro.
" So silently they seemed to speak,
So slowly moved about,
As they had lent her half their powers
To eke her living out.
" Their very hopes belied their fears,
Their fears their hopes belied
They thought her dying when she slept,
And sleeping when she died.
" For when the morn came dim and sad,
And chill with early showers,
Her quiet eyelids closed she had
Another morn than ours."
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